


Kill Me with Kindess

by DreadWolfMoon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Espionage, F/M, Gen, Steve in later chapters, Warning: Contains spoilers for Captain America 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreadWolfMoon/pseuds/DreadWolfMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Washington, the hunt for the Winter Soldier is on, and Nick Fury enlists the help of ex-mercenary, now convict, Kayla Farin in finding him. However, what she doesn't realise is that sometimes the past can come back to bite both you and your target in the ass, and now she has to fight not just against the remains of HYDRA, but against her own demons as well. And the Winter Soldier does not want to come quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Contains spoilers!! Seriously, go and see this movie pronto because it's brilliant. 
> 
> Also Steve is not really in this until later chapters MAYBE, because I'm using the assumption that he's involved with the events leading up to Avengers: Age of Ultron at this point, or just a bigger task that he has to take care of.
> 
> I wrote this in the course of one evening so please excuse the roughness of the prologue!

\- Prologue -

She never had visitors. Mainly because nobody really cared enough about her, but also because she didn’t technically “exist”. At least not to the general public. She didn’t exist to anyone except her employers, the same employers who stood by and watched as she was marched down death row for carrying out their dirty work. Typical. But today she was going to have a visitor, she could tell. There was a change in the air, a kind of heavy impatience hanging around the inmates. Who was getting a visitor? Was it a lawyer? Was someone going to escape the death sentence? Why was it so unfair, because it’s not me it’s happening to?

Footsteps echoed between the walls leading up to her cell. An informal visit… interesting. She lifted her chin, eyes closed, brain whirring a mile a minute as she tried to figure out who would be visiting her under such shadowy conditions. She knew, oh she knew all too well. Only one person would come and see her like this, not to ask for forgiveness, or spring her out based on good will, or a futile effort to undo the wrongs committed on both their parts, but to give her a job. Finally. It took him long enough. It was only a matter of time for him to realise that he couldn’t create a clean world without someone willing to wipe out the rotten blemishes in the old one.

“Kayla.”

A smile crept across her face as she heard the voice. So she was right, it was him. Opening her eyes, she dropped her gaze to look at the man sitting opposite her. “Sunglasses are new. I like it, they make you look younger.”

“I’m not here for fashion advice,” he replied sharply, his expression unreadable.

Kayla looked him up and down from behind the bars of her cell, not bothering to get up from her bed. He wasn’t dressed in his normal leather coat and black apparel. So the rumours she’d heard were true. SHIELD had indeed fallen. “Clearly. Obviously you’re setting some sort of new trend, what is it? Shunned spy? Spurned leader? Either way you’re pulling it off brilliantly, Fury.”

The side of Fury’s mouth twitched. “Good to know you haven’t lost your spark in here. I was getting worried they might have broken you.”

“Yeah, like hell you were.” Kayla leaned back against the wall, her hands behind her head, trying to retain her composure and not show her impatience to find out why Fury was there. She knew she didn’t resemble even a shadow of her former self in her orange prison overalls and white vest, hair hacked to a uniform chin length and tied back messily, and sleeplessness edging her eyes with purple shadows.

“What do you want? Or do you just miss me?” Fury wouldn’t have come to her without a damn good reason, he’d made it very clear that SHIELD would cut ties with her once she was in the lockup. Unfeeling bastards. They were the only reason she was there in the first place, but she supposed it was only in times of need when you found out who your real allies were.

Fury sighed, taking a step closer to the bars of her cell. The cells either side were empty, so at least he wouldn’t be overheard by anyone, and the guards were being paid enough to keep their mouths shut. “I’ve come with a job. A target.”

At the sound of his words, a spark flared up inside Kayla’s stomach. “You want me back in the game?” She looked up at him, dark eyes glinting as she watched his reaction carefully.

“There’s a guy…”

“There’s always a guy.”

“Not like this one. He poses an immeasurable threat to the security of this country, more than you can imagine. If we can get him in, get him to talk, we may be able to salvage this situation,” Fury told her, his hands held behind his back as he stood over her.

“This situation? You mean SHIELD being completely levelled from the inside? Funny, I would have used a different word. Shit storm perhaps. Fucking hurricane of screw ups.” Kayla sat forwards, her fingers twisting together in front of her as she thought. “What do you want me to do? I can’t exactly get the guy from in here, and capturing isn’t exactly my M.O. You want the guy killed? Easy. But finding him and bringing him in?” She laughed wryly, shaking her head. “You’re looking at a much larger cost.”

“Money won’t be an issue-“

“I’m not talking about money,” Kayla snapped, cutting him off. “I’m talking about something much more valuable.” Standing up smoothly, she faced him, her eyes burning into his and revealing some of her old fire. “I want my freedom. Not just from you. From SHIELD. The whole shabang. No records of me at all on any database, I wanna start clean.”

Fury matched her gaze without blinking. “You want to be given a new life? We can work something out.”

“No, not a new life.” Kayla gave him a grim smile. “I want to go back to my old one. I’ve been isolated from society for almost 2 years now, and it’s gotten extremely fucked up in my absence. Kind of obvious you need people like me to balance things out, keep your work running smoothly, right?” Leaning so close to the bars her fringe escaping the clip holding it up brushed the metal cylinders, she lowered her voice so only Fury could hear her. “I want to get back in the game. You need me, come on, Fury. Hydra managed to take SHIELD down from the inside within a matter of days, and you had no defence, even with all your agents. You need someone under the radar, on your side, showing Hydra how dirty you can play.”

The two of them stared each other down, neither one wanting to look away first, as if authority rested in a stare. The distant buzzing and shouts in faraway corners of the prison only served to increase the silence between them as Fury deliberated what he was being asked to do, what it would mean for the new world without SHIELD. Kayla was a loose cannon, but maybe that was exactly what was needed right now. Hydra had taken him down through exploiting his complacency, the predictability of the agency and using the internal workings to corrupt the system from within. Maybe unpredictability was what he needed right now to finish this.

“Deal.”

Kayla blinked. “Whoa. Didn’t expect it to be that easy. You must be really desperate or really stupid.”

“Yeah well, I won’t give you long enough to find out which. Pack your bags,” Fury smirked at her. “You’re getting off death row tonight.”

 ***

“So… tell me about this target.” Kayla took a sip of coffee. It probably tasted like shit, since it was only cheap diner coffee, but for someone who had been on death row for 2 years, it tasted like pure heaven. She and Fury were in a roadside diner somewhere off route 8, or at least that’s what she assumed, since she didn’t drive herself there. Fury had arranged transport to pick her up following her release only hours after they spoke, and they’d driven about 2 hours before finally stopping at an inconsequential diner. Looked like SHIELD’s influence wasn’t completely gone, but it was probably easier to spring someone from jail who never existed in the first place.

Fury reached into his briefcase lying beside him on the cracked red vinyl seat, drawing out a case file. Russian words dotted the front, but Kayla picked out the words “Soldier”, “experiment” and “active”. He placed it on the slightly sticky plastic table between them and spun it round to face her, taking a sip of his own coffee as she reached over to open it. “You may remember from reading Captain Rogers’ file that he had a second in command, James Barnes.”

“Yeah, I remember. Dark hair, kinda cute, died in action,” Kayla said distractedly, her eyes scanning the page, her fingers tracing down the lines.

“Well, it turns out he’s not as dead as we were led to believe. He’s been causing quite a mess for a long time, really screwing up everything we used to work to protect.”

“You. Everything _you_ worked to protect, I was just doing my job.”

Fury rolled his eye. “Anyway, turns out he was part of an experiment by a Hydra doctor called Zola to create a human weapon for Hydra. I ran into him a month ago, I’ve still got the scars. Trust me, he won’t go down without a fight.” He tilted his head to one side as he spoke, clasping his hands in front of him on the table.

Kayla flipped the file shut with a loud sigh. “So what do you want me to do about it? Kill him?” She didn’t bother to whisper, the diner was practically empty, the only customer besides herself and Fury an aging trucker who appeared to have fallen asleep over his pancakes and coffee at the counter. And the waitress was nowhere to be seen, but given the calibre of the place it was to be expected. “To be honest, from what I see here, that’s gonna be a little tricky.”

“No, you can’t kill him. We need you to bring him in. If we can get him to co-operate, and even if we don’t, he can tell us valuable intel about the remaining Hydra cells,” Fury replied tersely.

“Sounds like something you should ask Captain America to do. Aren’t they buddies or something?”

The question was met with silence. Kayla frowned as Fury deliberated, his fingers tightening around each other.

“Captain America is involved in something else at the moment. He was looking for the Winter Soldier, but he doesn’t know about you or this mission. And to be honest, it’s better that it continues that way.” Fury’s eye burned into Kayla’s, the only way to tell he was being sincere. “He doesn’t have to get any more involved in this than he already is.”

Kayla swallowed, her brow furrowing slightly as Fury’s words sank in. “Ok. So this is strictly under the radar, yeah?”

“Yeah. Kind of your specialty.”

“You know it.” She leaned back, dragging the folder closer to the edge of the table and flipping through the pages absent-mindedly as she thought. “So how are we going to do this? Do we even know where this guy is?” She stopped on a page with an old photo clipped to it, a young man in World War II uniform looking off to the side as if something had caught his eye, a slight smile gracing his lips. “So young…” she murmured, her fingers resting on the paperclip.

“Our intel believes he’s on his way to Rome, though we don’t know why,” Fury answered as if he hadn’t heard her. “You are to fly out on the same flight and make contact, under any alias or cover you want. The main thing is that you bring him to Washington alive so we can question him.”

“I thought you said SHIELD was done, who’s this “we”?” Kayla asked, closing the file on the photo. She peered over at Fury, her eyes narrowed. “You know you gotta tell me everything, right? Otherwise this really isn’t going to work.”

Fury leaned forwards. “SHIELD will never be done. Not while I’m still breathing. That’s all you need to know. Get Barnes or whichever stupidass name he’s using now, and bring him to Washington. That’s your mission.” His words were sharp, punching through the space between them.

“Ok.” Kayla fidgeted in her seat, her hand still resting on the file in front of her and shot Fury a dangerous smile, eyes glinting from behind escaping strands of hair. “When do we start?”


	2. New Start in Old Rome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for so many hits already! For a simple ramble fic this is going very well, so I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> This chapter isn't as long as I thought it would be because I had to split it into 2 parts, so hopefully the next one will have more in (action especially). It won't be posted until after the 12th of April because I will be on a field trip.
> 
> EDIT: My friend pointed out to me that at the end Kayla puts on a pair of sunglasses over her fake glasses. I apologise for master assassin and actual genius Kayla acting like a total dweeb, which she is, just not right now.

Bucky didn’t know what he was doing. Was his name even Bucky anymore? Did he feel like a Bucky? He didn’t know what he should call himself, and that made him agitated, like a stray dog caught in a net. He pulled his cap lower over his eyes, hiding his face from the airport security cameras. What was he, a failed weapon without even a name to go by… Pathetic. He felt broken, smashed apart inside, his thoughts bouncing around his damaged brain and catching on the sharp edges, tearing like gossamer. Fragments of his former self, both Bucky and the Winter Soldier clashing against each other, erasing everything he thought he knew about himself. Who was he really? Could he ever go back to what he was, back to having friends, back to… What was his name? Steve? Yeah, Steve. Not Captain America, not the target. He was Steve, he would always be Steve to Bucky, and Captain America to the Winter Soldier. The friend or the target. He couldn’t figure out which.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky rubbed his forehead with his knuckle. His head was pounding, same as it always did whenever he tried thinking about questions like who he was, and what his name should be. Time to stop thinking.

“Would passengers for American Airlines flight 718 rows 1-34 please begin boarding,” came the polite voice over the speakers of the waiting area, people stirring as one and picking up bags at the sound.

Bucky glanced down at his ticket. That was him, finally. Time to leave this hell hole, although why he was going to Rome he didn’t know. It was one of the first flights available to Europe from Philadelphia on such short notice, and even though it almost maxed out his bank balance he took it in a heartbeat. Enough should be left to get a hotel for a few nights when he got there, and he just had to hope he knew what he was doing. All he knew at the moment was that he wanted to get the hell out of dodge.

Picking up his duffel bag, he joined the sluggish queue towards the boarding gate, gloved hand tightening around the straps as he caught sight of security guards prowling the sides of the waiting area. It was hard enough to get through security with a metal arm, but luckily he’d managed it by going through calling it a prosthetic. But even so, he didn’t want anyone else to see it.

He dimly registered the boarding staff taking his passport and checking it, and giving him some sort of instruction as to where to walk, but he didn’t listen. Just follow the crowd, Buck. Act like everyone else. He forced himself to remain calm and not get panicked by the amount of people and the warning light flashing in his brain that someone might recognise him as he stepped over the threshold of the plane. Just take a seat, Bucky, and everything will be ok after you take off. Nobody can get you after you take off.

Apart from the SHIELD agents who could fly.

And the Avengers.

And someone on the plane with you.

But hopefully that won’t happen, right?

“Hi, I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit here?”

He jumped at the sound of a voice breaking through his web of thoughts. Looking up, he saw a woman standing over him, boarding pass clutched in one hand and her other resting on the vacant seat beside him. She was dressed in a pair of light green trousers and a loosely fitting white blouse, a dark blue vest peeping up over the open collar. No weapons that he could see hiding in those clothes. Too light, they’d show up. His eyes snapped up to her face, meeting a pair of dark eyes looking into his with worry from behind a pair of black rimmed glasses. Short sighted, so probably not military. She looked safe.

“Uh… sorry, I…. what?” he replied, realising he hadn’t answered her yet.

She smiled, the worry in her eyes vanishing as he spoke. “It’s ok, I have a little bit of an issue with flying and I’m supposed to sit by the window and uh….” She gave him a sheepish look. “You can probably see why that would be a problem. Do you mind if I take this seat?”

Bucky glanced down. Oh, an aisle seat. “Yeah, sure,” he replied, his voice gruff and not really knowing what else to say. It had been a while since someone had spoken to him normally, as if he was a person.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” She sat down next to him, shooting him a quick smile before buckling her seatbelt and settling back. “I’m Rachel, by the way, Rachel Winters.”

Bucky shook the hand that was being offered to him. “James,” he said without thinking. “Kellan,” he said quickly. Idiot. Blow your cover by telling the first person you meet your real name why don’t you.

“Nice to meet you.”

“…Likewise”

 

Kayla smiled as she settled back in her seat. She loved flying. And the target wasn’t really making any effort to hide, obviously he was knew to having covers and aliases, since he’d just confirmed his first name for her. Easy. She just hoped her English accent was up to par so he didn’t suspect anything, but “Rachel” was apparently not a threat to him as he’d let her sit beside him with no questions asked. So here she was, the mission already running smoothly and she’d only had to threaten one person so far (the old lady who was supposed to be sitting where she was, who was now chilling in her window seat).

“So, do you fly often?” Kayla asked Barnes, the accent tripping off her tongue in well-practiced words.

He seemed surprised by the question, or maybe because she was talking to him. “Uh, no. Not really. Not for a while,” he replied in clumsy, disjointed sentences, almost like he wasn’t used to talking in more than one syllable at a time. This guy was all kinds of weird.

Kayla nodded. “Yeah, me too. Used to fly all the time but you’re in one minor accident and suddenly you can’t stand to be on the things.” She gave a slight laugh. “Thank God it wasn’t a real crash otherwise things would be a lot worse…”

Bucky watched her as she spoke, an unconscious smile lifting one side of his mouth. “Yeah, I uh… I can imagine that wouldn’t be nice.” He went back to looking at the safety booklet.

“You got that right. So are you going to Rome for business or pleasure?” Get him talking, get him comfortable, then he won’t expect it when you stab him in the back.

“I’m not really sure,” Bucky replied after a short pause. He stared distractedly at the seat in front of him. “Just wanted to get out of here…” he said quietly.

Kayla looked at him, slight confusion in her eyes. This guy didn’t really seem like the kind who could take down Fury _and_ Captain America. A puppy, perhaps, but not a superhero. “I know that feeling,” she replied softly, dropping her gaze to her knees. “Sometimes you just gotta run.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each getting lost in their own thoughts against their will. Kayla sighed, looking over to the other side of the cabin. The engines revved beneath them as the plane began to taxi, revolving slowly to line up on the runway where it stopped, the engines growing impossibly loud and the seats shaking as the plane began to move. As they picked up speed, Kayla squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the arm rests tightly, remembering she was supposed to be afraid of flying.

“So, what is it for you?”

Kayla’s eyes snapped open as she heard Bucky’s question. “Huh?” she said dumbly, glancing over at him as the airport shrank beneath them, the plane climbing higher and higher as a feeling of weightlessness crept over her.

“Business or pleasure?” he continued.

“Oh. Uh, neither. I have to help my cousins clear out my aunt’s house. She died last week, and she had a lot of junk in her place,” she replied smoothly, inventing wildly as she spoke.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” Bucky said awkwardly, hands twisting in his lap.

Kayla smiled at him. “It’s ok, I didn’t really know her. Kind of an estranged aunt but they need all the help they can get. Family is family, y’know.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember any of his family, now that he thought about it. But they probably died a long time ago, and there was no point thinking about people who no longer existed.

 

The rest of the flight passed relatively smoothly, aside from when Kayla dozed off with her head propped up on her hand and woke when her elbow slid of the arm rest, causing her to jump and inhale a bit of spittle, which then made her cough for about two minutes. But luckily Barnes had fallen asleep too so was saved seeing that slip of composure. It had been 7 hours of sitting almost completely still, and it was starting to wear on her, so when the plane started to descend Kayla almost cried with happiness. Flying was great, but sitting in one place for 7 hours wasn’t.

“Hey,” she said, her voice hoarse, gently tapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Sorry,” she continued as his head jerked up and bleary eyes met hers. “We’re landing soon.”

He nodded, blinking and trying to clear his head as he snapped his tray table back into place. Looking out the window, he saw the sun rising over the countryside far below him. It looked so different from America, so empty, white roads stretching out like veins across tiny green, orange and brown fields. The city came into view in the distance, a mismatched mess of roads and houses, all jumbling together to form a web of civilisation that was completely different to the strict grid layout of American cities. It looked… different. Real. Unorganised and raw, just like him.

 Kayla glanced at the man next to her, smiling slightly as she saw how wide his eyes were as he watched the landscape outside. What a dope. It was just a city, after all. Nothing particularly fascinating about it from this angle, it was inside that interested her, all the winding alleys and hidden corners perfect for moving through the city unseen. That was more her style. She just hoped nobody recognised her there, but it had been at least 3 or 4 years since she last did a stint in Rome, and she’d changed a lot. Still, always good to be cautious.

The plane tilted down as they came in to land, passengers stirring around them as the turbulence of landing kicked in. Kayla repeated her previous act of closed eyes and gritted teeth, but slightly less than before. Gotta make Barnes think he’d had some sort of effect on her, it would act to increase the bond.

As they sank through the clouds, forces began buffeting the plane from side to side, the rattle of trays and cups in the galley rising to join the engines as they were rocked back and forth. A violent jolt made Kayla jump, her hands flying off her lap to grip the armrests, her breath catching in her throat. The plane dipped below the clouds and the turbulence stilled, Kayla’s heart slowing down to a normal beat. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, her vision clouded with red dots from her eyes being squeezed too tight. Looking down, she saw that her hand was holding onto Bucky’s.

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry!” she stammered, letting go quickly as if his hand was a poisonous spider. “I uh… Sorry.” Thank God blushing worked for her cover.

“It’s ok. You’re scared of flying,” he replied simply, lifting his own hand off the seat and flexing the fingers. “Good grip.”

Kayla felt her cheeks flush even more. “Thanks…” she muttered, brushing a strand of hair off her face self-consciously. Laying her hand back in her lap, she glanced down at it. His hand had been so hard… and cold, even under the glove he was wearing. Well, now she knew which arm was the metal one. Weird…. It seemed so disjointed with the way he’d been acting, so quiet and unassuming, so still throughout the entire flight, but this guy was definitely the killing machine responsible for hundreds of assassinations over the years under the control of Hydra. Out of the corner of her eye, Kayla watched him. His entire character was completely off, completely at odds with what she had been told. Who had ever heard of a ruthless human weapon that looked like a lost child?

 ***

“So I guess this is goodbye, James,” Kayla remarked as they walked down the tunnel towards the airport. Her legs were tingling all over and her joints were incredibly stiff… a hot bath as soon as the contact time with the target was over would be exactly what the doctor ordered. She rolled her shoulders and heard several loud clicks as they protested at the sudden movement.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied.

“Still, we may run into each other again.” She flashed him one of her best, quick smiles. “I mean, Rome isn’t that big, right?” Ducking her head, she tucked her hair behind her ear again, allowing a slight pinkness to dust her cheeks.

They reached the end of the tunnel and were greeted by dozens of yelling chauffeurs and taxi drivers, family and friends all waiting impatiently with smiles already plastering their faces and ready to cry out in happiness at the sight of their arrivals. As passengers rushed past her, Kayla couldn’t stop seeing the cheerful greetings of friends and family members, their happy shouts and tears and rushed, clumsy hugs and kisses filling her vision as she stood alone in a sea of warmth, untouched and unwelcomed.

“So…. I’ll see you around?” Bucky’s voice broke through her reverie, and she glanced back up at him, blinking as her head cleared.

“Yeah. I hope so,” she replied gently, holding out her hand. “It was nice to meet you, James Kelan.”

He took it with his good hand, the warmth of the realness of it seeping through his glove into her palm. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, Rachel Winters,” he echoed, very aware of how pretty the eyes were that were looking into his. Blinking, he let go of her hand, and tugged nervously on the rim of his cap. “Bye,” he finished awkwardly.

Kayla smiled. “See you.” Hitching her bag higher up her shoulder, she turned and began walking away, a dangerous smile already tugging her lips as she pulled off her fake glasses, reached into her pocket and drew out a pair of sunglasses, placing them smoothly over her eyes as she approached the exit. Time to go to work, Fury had told her about a SHIELD weapons cache that she was authorised to use, and she planned to exploit that to its full potential. The target may seem like a lost boy, but he had single handedly beaten Captain America within an inch of his life. She couldn’t wait to get in on that action, a proper fight after so many years with a target who actually knew what he was doing and was a stone cold, ruthless killer like her. Who knew, maybe she would be evenly matched for a change.

As she reached the street outside the airport and hailed a cab, her phone began buzzing in her pocket. Damn she’d only had it on a few minutes, why was someone already bugging her.

“Yeah?” she said tersely she pressed the green phone icon and held the device to her ear.

“Good, you’ve landed,” came Fury’s voice on the other end of the line. “You made contact yet?”

Jesus, this guy didn’t fuck around. “Yeah, I have. What, didn’t you trust that I could?” Kayla teased, stepping back from her suitcase as a taxi drove up and the driver leaped out, grabbing her suitcase and chucking it in the trunk.

“Oh I trusted that you could, I just wanted to know what kind of contact you made.”

“What are you trying to say, Nick?” she slid into the cab, smiling gracefully at the driver as he held the door open for her. “I made the contact, he’s totally in. Trust me, I’m not losing this one.” The smile grew wider as she thought of Barnes and how long he had stared at her during their goodbye. Totally hooked.

“Good. Keep me updated, but…. Subtly. If you can manage to be subtle.”

“If you think I’m not subtle you really don’t know me very well,” Kayla shot back. The line cut off and she rolled her eyes. Such a good conversationalist that one, at least as far as she was concerned. “Hotel d'Inghilterra, per favore,” she said, leaning forwards.

“Si, madame,” came the reply from the front of the taxi.

Kayla sat back and relaxed as they pulled out of the taxi rank, leaving the airport behind and diving into the streets of Rome. Sunlight glinted off the buildings and Kayla tilted her head to the side to get a better view of the city, crowds and bikes rushing past her as they drove, weaving through the traffic and mingling with the city noises of shouts, horns and engines. Rome was such a beautiful city, such class and elegance broken up by crooked buildings and old, cracked walls of graffiti and tags. This really was a place where the old and the new were forced together, Kayla thought as they drove past buildings quietly crumbling next to sleek offices, a place where the history of humanity was mapped out within a single street. Maybe that’s why she liked it so much, because she could see the progress of what happened when you built on top of an old world. Pushing her sunglasses up her nose, a smile crept over her face again. God, she loved her job.

***

Fingers brushed over the weapons laid in neat, straight lines on the bed, the sharp coldness of metal stinging into her palm as she picked up a small switchblade, its blade barely 1cm wide but sharpened to deadly razors at both edges. She loved this knife. Holding it up to her face, Kayla’s breath made small imprints on the metal. Time to go to work, baby… Reaching down, she strapped it into her thigh holster, hitched high enough up her leg to not be seen below the hemline of her knee length dress. Still in her bra and panties, she lifted her sleekly tailored protective vest out of her suitcase and set about strapping and zipping herself into it. Perfectly moulded to her body, the armour wouldn’t stop a bullet but would fare well against most knife attacks. And it cushioned her body against physical attacks. Next came another, shorter and wider, knife placed in her ankle holster.

She always carried at least five blades on her at all times, tucked in strategic locations around her body. One on the left thigh, one on the right ankle, two on her back, and one carried either in a bag or held in her hand. Knives were her weapon of choice after all, and had served her well. Most people expected her to come after them with a gun, most didn’t see her blades until it was too late, and she would never tire of seeing the look of surprise on their faces as they realised how much they were at her non-existent mercy. And they helped to create the name that was splashed across police reports, agency files and that fell from her targets’ mouths as they saw her, when they knew the infamous Red Blade had come to silence their fear drenched hearts.

As she slipped her short, deep blue dress over her head and twisted her hair into a sleek topknot, placing two long, silver and razor sharp needles into it, and grabbing her bag with her last knife and a gun inside, just to be safe, she headed out of the door. The mirror on the wardrobe door caught her reflection, and Kayla’s dangerous and quietly unsettling smile grew wider as she saw herself as she was always meant to be. Sleek, stylish, deadly and completely aware of all of those things.

Kayla hadn’t been made into a monster by SHIELD.

She’d always been one.

And she loved every second of it.


	3. Roman Reloaded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back from NYC! Thanks for being patient guys, hopefully this chapter will make up for my absence. I had to split it into two parts cos it was starting to get a little long... Oh well, enjoy! There's more action in this one :3

Sunlight caught in the droplets of the fountains, turning them into molten gold as dawn broke over the city, shadows of the buildings stretching and fading in the morning light. Everything was still, silent until the sunlight hit it, when the city would slowly wake from the night’s cover, birdsong ringing out and the splashes of the fountains seeming louder in the fresh morning air.

As the day began seeping through the curtains, Kayla groaned and buried her face further into the pillows in a vain attempt to preserve the night a little longer. She probably shouldn’t have stayed out so late tracking the target last night, After suiting and booting, she’d prowled all over the city until she finally found the pokey, run down hotel he’d settled at, then she had to wait for him to leave before she could bug his room. And he’d just gone across the road to a café, not even trying to get his bearings in the city, so after bugging his room within an inch of its life, all she had to do was sit on top of the nearest building and watch him sit and stare glumly at a cup of coffee. All in all, it was a very long and arduous evening, and when she dragged herself out of the warm cocoon of her bed, she could see the fallout from her late-night crash. Her knives, still in their holsters, were strewed on the plush carpet where she’d dropped them, some of the blades coming loose and sticking into the floor. Her once sleek dress was flung in a crumpled heap on the vanity cabinet, knocked over bottles of fancy lotions and shampoos lying in a kamikaze mess on the floor beneath it.

Letting out a groan enviable by zombies, Kayla rolled over and sat up, her hair falling in tangled strands over her shoulders as her slightly bloodshot eyes tried to adjust to the light. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded over to the night stand, wobbling slightly, and grabbed a cup of stone-cold coffee she’d ordered before leaving last night, downing it in one. It tasted like pencil shavings. At least it woke her up, she thought grimly as she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower to a temperature so high it would have made Satan wince and stepped in, catching the water in her hands and pouring it over her head with a contended sigh.

Water streamed down her body and Kayla dimly registered how much her body had changed while in prison. Soft curves of a comfortable and healthy life had been replaced by sharp, lean roped of tense muscles born from a poor diet and surviving the harsh environment of the military lock up that weight heavily on both mind and body at every turn. No wonder Fury thought she was up to the task of catching the Winter Soldier, she observed as her fingers lightly brushed over a long jagged scar cutting across her stomach from a poor attempt at an attack by a fellow prisoner, she didn’t have any danger from being emotionally compromised like Captain Rogers did. Fury had offered her something she wouldn’t ever let slip through her fingers, and a boatload of money as well. There was no way in hell she wouldn’t finish this job, no matter what.

Sighing loudly, she shook her head, water flying off in a barrage of droplets as she vigorously rubbed shampoo into her hair, thoughts of her time in prison banished to a back corner of her mind. She had more important things to think about, like why the hell she was waking up at the butt crack of dawn. Rise early, find the target, get him to approach you so that he doesn’t suspect you are following him, stalker 101. So now all that was left was where to make second contact. All of a sudden she felt like getting a coffee…

***

Bucky watched the endless stream of tourists pass by without giving him a second glance. He doubted they even noticed him to begin with, he thought as he took another sip of coffee, a morning breeze brushing on his face, kissing his cheeks lightly as it ghosted across the piazza where he sat, unnoticed in a small coffee shop. He didn’t know why he’d come here. He thought maybe once he landed he’d know, but he still had no clue why his feet had brought him here. Maybe he’d never know. Maybe he was simply waiting for something to happen. His mind ran in circles, but he didn’t care, just let it rove as he sat perfectly still, a pen held loosely in his left hand from scribbling nonsensical doodles and words on a paper napkin in front of him.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know what he was going to do next. At first he’d wanted to find out about his past, but that drive was fading the further time progressed away from when he’d fought Captain America on the helicarrier. Clearly he was someone that guy had been close to, and after visiting the exhibition he had a vague idea that they had been close in the past, but what was he now? Would he ever become that person again, even if he found out about his past? The urge to find out who he really was was being replaced quickly by a burning desire for vengeance against the Hydra bastards who had created the Winter Soldier, who had forced him to become a glorified puppet for their cause, stripped him of everything he was and his power to refuse, to be his own person.

His fingers clenched tighter around the pen, the plastic straining and cracking under the strength of the metal gears. The sound of it snapping in half broke him from his thoughts, ink dripping over his gloved hand and falling in dark droplets onto the white table cloth beneath it. He stared at the spots for a while, as if trying to make sense of their patterns, before dropping the pen onto the ground. What the hell was he becoming...

“Coffee, signore?”

He jumped at the sound of the waitress’ Italian accent. Eyes darting up, he shook his head quickly. She looked surprised at his reaction, but nodded and moved away, the shiny silver coffee pot held carefully in her arms as she approached another customer. Bucky watched her walk quickly and gracefully around the tables, dodging bags and meeting every customer with a smile, leaving the musky, comforting scent of coffee in her wake.

He frowned as she walked away from one table, the woman sat at it coming into his view. She looked familiar, where had he seen her before? Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and her face was downturned as she read a book propped up on her legs and the table edge, but he still recognised her. Rachel, the woman from the plane. He watched her read for a while, the anger and confusion in his mind fading as she turned another page, the comforting familiarity in her movements calming him somehow. Maybe it was because she had nothing to do with his world, or because she was the first person to approach him without any ulterior motive, but something about her made him feel… safe. Should he go and talk to her? The thought made his expression soften. If only all his concerns could be as simple as whether or not he should go and talk to a pretty girl.

 

The book was terrible, whatever it was. Kayla did her best to continue reading it, because she knew just sitting and staring into space would make her look odd, but it was hard. Whoever this author was really had no clue what on earth they were talking about. Please come and talk to me soon… she thought as she took a drink, turning another unread page as she waited patiently for Barnes to make the move. If he didn’t soon she’d probably have to go over and she hated that, she never knew what to say to guys in a situation like this, and it really didn’t help that he was kind of cute-wait what? That had come out of nowhere… A shadow fell over her book and she looked up, face breaking into a smile as she saw the target standing over her awkwardly, silhouetted against the clear blue sky.

“Hi!” she said, slipping into “Rachel’s” English accent without a second thought. “Fancy seeing you here, please, join me.” She closed her book with an inward grateful sigh, and placed it on the table next to her. “James, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.” Shit, what should he say? What do people normally say?

“How are you liking Rome so far?”

“It’s good.” There was a short awkward pause. “How about you?”

Kayla shrugged. “It’s ok. My cousins finished up with the packing before I arrived so now I have a few days to spare. At least I have nice weather for it.”

Bucky watched her speak, a slight smile tugging the side of his mouth, barely noticeable. “Yeah, lucky,” he said lamely, realising she’d stopped speaking.

She caught his gaze and let a shy smile grace her face. She wasn’t quite sure what to say next, but the waitress saved her by popping up next to her and offering the coffee pot.

“Più caffè, signora?”

“Si, grazie, e uno per il mio amico, per favore,” Kayla replied, holding out her cup. The waitress nodded and zipped off to get a cup for Bucky at Kayla’s request.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked as the waitress left.

Kayla nodded. “Yes, it comes in quite handy while trying to translate Latin. I’m an archaeology student, writing my doctorate at the moment.” She brushed back a stray piece of hair and tried to smooth it back into place into the sleek topknot her hair was tied into, the humid air of Rome making the wisps curl and escape. “Sorry, terribly boring stuff I’m afraid,” she said sheepishly with a small laugh.

“No, I… uh… I mean, it’s interesting.” Bucky kicked himself inwardly for his fumbled words. Was he always like this with women? Or had he been smooth, once upon a time… Either way, he was messing it up right now. At which point in time had he lost the ability to communicate?

She shrugged. “It has its moments, to be sure.” She sat back slightly to make room for the waitress placing a cup of steaming coffee in front of Barnes. “It means I can appreciate a place like this a lot more,” she remarked, looking out across the piazza. A policeman crossed her line of vision, and something about the way he walked, the prowling, controlled stride so similar to her own, made her eyes catch on his face.

Time seemed to slow around her as his face sank into her mind, falling through the archives of her memory. It couldn’t be… He couldn’t still be alive… And yet he looked so similar, just like someone she had crossed the last time she was here. No, not just similar, he was the same man. And she was incredibly screwed, because he was looking right at her, eyes ringed by dark circles of sleeplessness burning straight into her wide ones. She had to get out. But she had to protect the target too, because if this guy found out who Barnes was, what he meant to Hydra and what he could do, she would lose him in an instant.

The man passed her, head swivelling back to watch his path, hand already resting on his gun as he strode across the piazza, but Kayla knew he wasn’t gone for good. He’d be back, he probably had his people stationed in this whole place, on the rooftops with snipers, in the very café where she’d been sitting completely vulnerable for the past hour. She’d walked right into his trap and didn’t even notice.

“Shit,” she hissed as she dropped her gaze, hands clenched on the table in front of her. For the first time in her life, she had no idea how to handle the situation.

“What?”

Her eyes darted up to see Barnes watching her, a confused look in his eyes. “I uh… I realised I have to be back at the hotel in a few minutes,” she said haltingly, her voice wrought with worry. “Walk back with me?” She gave him a winning smile as she stood and grabbed her bag, hoping her fear and urgency to run wouldn’t show through her words.

“Uh… sure,” Bucky replied, standing. “Are you ok?” he asked as she began walking quickly out of the café after hastily throwing a few bills onto the table.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said breathlessly as they walked, her eyes darting from side to side. Even though she was fully armoured and had all her knives, she still felt unsafe, and that feeling boiled in her stomach and sent fire shooting down her veins.

“Signora,” came the sound of the waitress’ voice from behind her, and she spun around to see the woman pointing a gun straight at her head. As quickly as her mind registered the weapon, she felt hands grab her wrists from behind, and a zip-tie being tightened around them.

“Please, come with us,” a male voice that was horrifyingly familiar said behind her, breath brushing against her ear as he spoke. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Barnes receiving the same treatment, except his hands weren’t being bound with zip-ties, but with a pair of heavy, thick metal handcuffs with strange glowing hinges. They knew who he was… This situation was going from bad to worse at the speed of light.

They were frogmarched away from the piazza, other “police” joining them as they left the café’s borders. Kayla did her best not to look at Barnes, her cover was blown anyway so why bother keeping it up? She could see he was becoming more agitated the further they got away from the crowds, his arms straining against the cuffs in a vain attempt to break free. Obviously these guys had got hold of some wicked tech, because they didn’t even buckle under the strain. Kayla set her eyes back to the pavement, her hands working in furious, tiny movements behind her back as she began working on her escape plan. If only she could get to the tiny blade hidden inside her watch for times like this she’d be golden, although what she would do once she was free she didn’t know. Grabbing Barnes and running seemed to be the most viable option.

Finally the police in front of her stopped in a small square, the surrounding buildings cutting out all light and covering the cobbles in shade. It was incredibly claustrophobic, the buildings seeming to close in on her as Kayla looked around, taking in the scene. At least 10 armed guards were waiting for them, and joined by the five or so police that had marched them there it made for very unsavoury odds. She was pushed into the middle of the square, standing a few inches from Barnes as the soldiers stepped back, forming a circle around them.

“Stay calm,” she whispered to the man next to her, dropping the English accent completely.

“What the hell is going on?” His voice was rough, harsh, completely different to before. Maybe he was finally showing his true colours at last.

“I think they’re going to kill me,” she replied, glancing up at him. “I don’t know what they’ll do to you. But I’ll try and protect you.”

Bucky’s eyes darted around the square, his hair falling over his slightly lowered face as his mind began slipping back into Winter Soldier mode. What the hell was happening here…“Who are you?” he whispered.

Kayla didn’t answer at first, unsure of what she should say. She decided to lie. “Someone you can trust.”

“Kayla Farin.” The words rang out across the square as a man dressed in black military gear emerged from the crowd, the others parting before him until he stood before the two of them, a wide smile making his scarred face look all the more terrifying. His dark, slightly greying hair was pulled back from his face on one side, revealing the dappled scars of a wide burn that stretched from his forehead to his jawline, mangling his skin into a scaly mess. “Or is it Anna DeBois? Or maybe Yvonne Sterling? I forget which name you used last time you were here.” His thick Italian accent and rough voice scraped against Kayla’s ears as they travelled across the square.

“Comandante,” she growled as he began walking around them. “How many years has it been, two? Three? I like what you’ve done with your hair.” She knew goading him wasn’t a good idea, but she did it all the same.

He shook a finger at her as he laughed, a cruel, grating noise that made her skin crawl. “You are still funny, yes. I have heard this from our friends.”

“You have friends?” Kayla asked as her head swivelled around to watch him.

“Many, yes. And they tell me that you are free from prison, and that you are coming to my city.” Comandante stopped in front of her again, the smile vanished from his face and his hands held behind his back. “My city. You should have known better to return,” he continued, his voice still and quiet.

“It’s just a job, man, nothing more. I didn’t want any trouble when I came back here.”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU MURDERED MY SON!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth as his composure slipped, anger flaring in his eyes and burning into her skin. “Ah….” He rested a hand on his forehead, forehead wrinkling as he frowned. “You see…. I am a very angry man. My wife tells me “Dante, let it go”, but I do not think so.” His hand dropped to rest on his gun as he stared at her from beneath thick, wild eyebrows. “I think I should just kill you now.” He pulled his gun from the holster and pointed it directly at her head.

Kayla didn’t react at all, just watched him. “You’re right,” she said after a while, her voice quiet, controlled. “I killed him. I had to.” She narrowed her eyes and let her burning anger show on her face as she spoke again. “And now I’m going to kill you too,” she spat.

The bitingly cold end of the gun pressed against her forehead as Dante stepped forwards, his entire body shaking with anger and hurt pride. “You will kill me too?” he hissed at her, hot breath fanning over her face. “I do not think so. Him,” he nodded towards Bucky. “The Winter Soldier? Maybe. But you?” He laughed cruelly. “This is a joke.”

“I warned you once not to underestimate me,” Kayla growled at him, leaning forwards to press the gun back into his hand, the end digging into her skin as she did. “And what happened then? I shot your son in the face.” The zip tie finally snapped under the tiny blade, and before Dante could react, her hand snapped up and grabbed the gun from him, twisting his wrist behind his back as she did and holding him in front of her body like a shield, the gun now pressed against his forehead.

Guns all around the circle raised to point at her as she looked around. She could do this. She’d done things like this before. She just had to have faith that she hadn’t lost her touch while in prison.

“Barnes,” she called. “When I say down, you get down.” The tone of her voice left room for no arguments, and she hoped he would listen to her.

“You will not win this,” Dante spat from her arms.

“Shut up,” she said distractedly. Ok, focus Kayla. You have to do this in 3, 2….

“DOWN,” she screamed, seeing Barnes drop to the floor as she shoved Dante into the bodies of the soldiers in front of her, shooting them both in the heads as they scrambled to catch him. As bullets began raining down around her, she dropped and rolled across the cobbles, landing at the feet of the next two soldiers, a pair of long, curved knives already in her hands as she sliced across their ankles, placing the hilts on the ground as they stumbled and fell right onto them. She felt every snap of their veins, every grate of the blades against the bones as they impaled themselves, no expression on her face as she wrenched the knives from the bodies and spun on the spot, blades flicking out to slice across the throats of the soldiers next to her.

A silence fell across her mind as she ran forwards towards the centre of the square in zig zags to avoid the bullets, the grim red focus on the soldiers who were already dead in her mind the only thought she had. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but blood, and viscera, and escape. Her feet moved in ever changing circles, almost like she was dancing as she whirled her knives around, catching soldiers around her in the arms, the throats, the faces. Hot blood splattered her face and bare arms but she barely noticed, her skin was burning already. She stabbed a soldier in the centre of his chest, the blades vanishing all the way into his body as he fell backwards, and Kayla let go of the hilts, leaving them sticking straight up in his fallen corpse. Reaching down, she unsheathed her needle-thin, long knife from her thigh holster.

The sound of gunfire stopped as the remaining soldiers ran out of ammo almost at the same time. As they scrambled to reload, Kayla vaulted over one of the bodies, twisting in the air to avoid the bullets now flying towards her, free hand reaching into her other holster and grabbing several inch long blades. As her feet slammed onto the ground again, she sent them flying into the chests of the shooters without even stopped to aim, just knowing that the knives would find their targets. The sound of grisly thuds and screams of pain proved her right.

Straightening up, she looked around, flicking her damp hair out of her eyes. Only 4 soldiers left, their emptied guns dropped at their feet as they moved to circle her, some holding knives, others holding up their fists as if that would be any protection against her. Kayla smirked, her own blade held up ready to meet them as she fell into a low fighting stance. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Barnes flattened against the wall, his hands still bound behind him. What a fantastic asset he’d been in this fight.

Her eyes flicked back to the soldiers surrounding her, taking in their uncertain stances and rapidly moving chests. They had no idea what they were doing, and yet she knew they were still going to try and kill her. She forced her own breathing to slow as they began to edge closer to her, unsure if they should strike first.

This was taking too long.

As if hearing her thoughts, the first attacker moved in an instant, her foot sliding forwards and her own knife slicing through the air towards Kayla’s face. She smoothly stepped aside and grabbed the other woman’s arm, jabbing the point of her blade into the soldier’s forehead, her muscles moving whip-fast. The others came at her in one attack, and Kayla let everything go. Her body began to move of its own accord, knife flying in perfect sync with her other arm as defence, her whole mind focusing on stabbing, punching, stabbing, ducking, slicing, spinning, everything was in sync and everything was perfect as she took down one after another until she was surrounded by a circle of bodies.

The air stilled around her as her mind settled and she calmly slid her knife back into her holster. Stepping smoothly over the bodies, she made her way over to where Dante was cowering in a corner, whimpers falling from his shaking mouth as his terrified eyes watched her stride towards him. Stooping, she picked up a gun from the cobbles and clicked the safety off. One shot left. Perfect.

“You…. You are not human,” Dante whispered as she stood over him, his feet pushing against the cobbles in a vain attempt to get away.

The side of Kayla’s mouth twitched up in a grim smirk. “I’m not human. I’m a ghost. With knives.” The gun in her hand aimed at his forehead, and she took a second to enjoy the look of sheer terror on his face before pulling the trigger. Blood splattered across the bricks behind him, smearing as his body slid sideways to fall on the floor, his eyes still wide and staring at nothing.

Kayla tossed the gun away and knelt down to rummage on his pockets. “Keys…. Keys...” she muttered as she searched. Her fingers grasped them and she stood, making her way over to where Barnes was standing, his expression unreadable. She grabbed her knives from the corpse they were still stuck in as she passed and placed them carefully back in the holster. “Ok, time to get those cuffs off,” she said lightly, breathlessly as she reached out to take his wrists.

“What the hell just happened?” he growled, moving away from her, fear and anger flaring up in his dark eyes.

“My job. Now come on, we gotta get out of here,” she replied grimly. “I don’t know how many of these guys I killed and how many are just stunned, so we have to move.”

Bucky stared at her. Who was she? Her threat level had risen from 0 to 100 in the time she had taken to take down every soldier in the square without even flinching. How could he trust someone who could do that, who could move like a machine, like… Like him. His eyes darted around the square as he took in the horrific scene. Already congealing blood ran in rivulets around the cobbles, covering the whole ground in a haze of red. Clearly she had been lying to him the whole time.

Movement in the corner of the square made Bucky react before he could think, and he pushed Kayla to one side just as he heard the sound of a gunshot. The bullet slammed into the wall behind where Kayla had been standing a few seconds earlier, and she whirled around to see a soldier slumping back onto the floor after rising enough to fire at them. Something ran down her left arm, something hot and sticky, and looking down she saw a perfectly straight line cutting across her skin. The bullet had missed her by inches, but had cut deeply as it went by.

Casting the stinging pain to the back of her mind, she grabbed Bucky’s arm and began running towards one of the alleys leading into the square. As they reached the cover of almost complete darkness, she roughly pushed him around, unlocking his cuffs and throwing them away.

“Come on, we have to get somewhere safe,” she said and peered around the corner back into the square, her eyes wide and darting around the scene. A hand fell on her arm and before she could react, she was slammed against the wall, Bucky’s metal arm crushing against her throat as he tightened his grip around her wound, blood seeping out around his fingers as she cried out.

“What the hell is going on?” he hissed into her face as she struggled against his grip. “Who the hell are you? Why have you been lying to me?”

Kayla felt a choked gasp slip from her lips as his arm pressed more firmly against her throat. “I… I’m not here to hurt you,” she coughed. “Please, I’m not…. Your enemy….” Her breath ran out and she pushed against his chest, trying to weaken his hold but the metal was unforgiving.

Bucky’s mouth was twisted into a grimace as he fought the urge to crush her throat and be done with it. But he needed her alive, he had to know who had sent her and what that meant. Stepping back, he released her and she fell to her knees, coughing wildly as air rushed down her bruised throat.

Kayla scrambled up, stumbling slightly as she met his eyes and held her hands out to the sides, palms facing up. “See, no knives,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Bucky didn’t reply, just watched her with mistrust lacing his eyes. “Who are you.”

“My name is Kayla Farin, I was hired to come and find you.”

“By who?”

Kayla paused before answering. “SHIELD,” she admitted finally, the word coming out in a rushed sigh. “What remains of the true SHIELD. They want to bring you in, find out what you know about Hydra.” As she spoke she watched his reaction, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Her arm was beginning to ache from being held up for so long.

Bucky raised his chin slightly, his mouth a hard line. “They wanna torture me.”

“No.”

“STOP LYING!” The words bounced off the narrow alley walls, making Kayla flinch. “Tell me who you are!”

“I’m a mercenary, bounty hunter, I also play the guitar,” Kayla replied with a nervous laugh, her heart beating a mile a minute.

“What?”

“Yeah, not very well…”

“Stop it!” Bucky’s head was spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut, his ears ringing in confusion. What should he do? “Stop… talking….” he growled, grinding his palm against his forehead as he tried to calm down, leaning over slightly.

Kayla glanced around. They couldn’t stay here, she had to get Barnes somewhere safe, get herself somewhere safe, and fast. “Look, Barnes,” she said quietly, stepping closer to him. “Trust me, I’m not going to hurt you, and neither is SHIELD. If they were, they wouldn’t have sent me all this way just to bring you back, ok? I can help you.” She leant down, standing a few inches away from him, so close that she could hear his rapid breathing. “You want something, right? Get back at Hydra? Find out about your past? Whatever it is, I can help you, I promise,” she whispered.

Bucky’s head jerked up to look at her. “You promise?” he hissed. “How do I know I can trust you?” His dark eyes bored into her’s.

“Because I’m getting paid,” she replied. “And believe me, as long as I’m getting that reward, nobody will be able to touch you.”

***

“We need to get a hotel room,” Kayla told Bucky, lines etching her brow as they wove their way through the crowds of tourists in the streets. “The sun’s going to start setting soon, we need to find a place before then.”

Bucky followed her, eyes darting this way and that, tension making his muscles sting with energy. He had no idea why he was still with her, maybe because she actually looked earnest when she promised to get him answers.

“We can’t go back to our old rooms,” she continued, not caring he didn’t reply. “I hope there was nothing you were particularly attached to in that duffle bag of yours.”

His eyes hardened as her words reached him. “That duffle bag” was filled with old, tattered clothes he’d lifted from washing lines and thrift stores, and various pieces of junk he’d picked up for reasons he couldn’t explain; the slightly torn ticket stub from the Captain America exhibition, a child’s toy World War II plane, a pilot’s winged star pin. So yes, there were things in that bag he was attached to, but he’d never admit it to her.

Kayla finally stopped in front of a more run down hotel down one of the graffiti-laced back streets of the city. “Come on,” she said grimly after pausing in front of it for a moment, her eyes roving the crumbling plaster and mismatching curtains inside. “Room for two, per favore,” she called as she approached the front desk in the dim, cool lobby.

The clerk looked them both up and down with more attitude than he should have had in a hotel like that. Two tired and battered people, one covered in suspicious looking brownish-red stains, the other with tangled hair and wild eyes, both coated in grim and bruises. “Name?” he asked with a sigh, judging them to be fit for the premises.

Kayla slid a €100 note across the slightly tacky pink marble counter top. “No names.” She stared at the clerk as his eyes darted from the note, to her face, back to the note, holding his gaze with cool countenance.

“No names,” the clerk repeated with a slick smile.

“And put it down as two males, not a female and a male,” Kayla continued, placing a €50 note on top of the first. “They’re going to be looking for us, and they know my alias pattern,” she muttered to Bucky as the clerk began typing on his aging computer. “We can’t be too cautious…” Her eyes moved around the lobby, taking in every detail methodically and meticulously recording them in her mind.

Bucky remained silent as the clerk slid two keys across the counter and grabbed the money Kayla had left for him. “Please enjoy your stay, signore, signora,” he said smoothly with another oily, sickly smile.

“Grazie.” Grabbing the keys, Kayla turned and began moving towards the stairs through the doorway of the lobby. As they climbed, she tried to ignore how little Barnes had been talking, having no idea if that was a bad sign or not. Given that he wasn’t very chatty before, she decided it was normal for him, but this silence was different, harsher, more dangerous than before. The growling silence from an agitated tiger before it pounced. Pushing the key into the stiff lock of the door, she readied herself for what would not be a pleasant conversation when they reached the room beyond.

As she opened the door, a breeze of musty cold air rushed against her face. The curtains were drawn in the surprisingly large room, a wide archway separating the bedroom from the living area, tatty and faded armchairs facing each other over a fraying rug.

“This will do,” she remarked, stepping over the threshold and hearing Bucky close the door behind them. Turning, she gave him a winning smile, the sweet expression grotesquely at odds with the blood still splattered across her face. “So… I’m guessing you probably have a lot of questions right now.”


	4. Vertigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credit to the lovely stucky-barnes for letting me use her headcanon about Bucky's panic attacks in this chapter! Go check out her tumblr here http://stucky-barnes.tumblr.com/ :D
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains fanfic cliches.

“Talk.” Bucky sat in one of the armchairs, slumping down so hard it made the frame creak. His fingers curled into loose fists on the armrests as he stared at the woman opposite him, his eyebrows pulled down into a glare.

Kayla raised her eyebrow and snorted. “Wow. You don’t fuck around, huh?” She began rolling up the short sleeve of her dress, wincing as the thin floral fabric peeled off the bloody wound. “Get me something alcoholic from the minibar,” she asked without looking up at him, her fingers lightly picking off the specks of dirt and grim sticking to the drying blood.

Bucky didn’t move, just sat and watched her stoically. He regarded her like a wild animal watched a potential threat, careful suspicion in his dark, intense eyes.

“I’m not going to drink it, I swear,” Kayla continued, looking over at him. “Please?”

Grinding his teeth together momentarily, Bucky stood and made his way reluctantly to the fridge, selecting a tiny, palm sized bottle of vodka and slamming it on the low coffee table in front of her. “Now talk,” he said again, sitting back down.

“Thanks,” Kayla snapped back sarcastically, unscrewing the cap and rolling her shoulders before pouring a little on the wound. She hissed air through her teeth as the sharp, stabbing pain of the alcohol on the exposed flesh bit into her and took a quick swig from the bottle. “Med kit from my purse, then I’ll talk,” she commanded, unaffected by the hot glare being shot her way by the international assassin across the room.

As he handed her the small first aid pouch, Kayla unzipped it and found the needle and surgical thread. Bucky averted his gaze as she began stitching up her wound, the thin needle passing easily through layers of skin as she pulled the wound closed, brow twitching and jaw set in pain.

“I guess you wanna know everything about me? Right from the beginning?” Kayla glanced over at Bucky, a teasing smile on her face. “Sure.” Sighing, she cut the thread with a pair of tiny scissors from the bag and set the needle down. Taking another swig of vodka, she sat back, crossing her legs and settling down. “Where do I start…”

“How about with how the hell you took out twenty armed soldiers with nothing but a couple of knives?” he growled. She was playing games, teasing him and he hated her for it.

She snorted. “It wasn’t twenty. Fifteen, maybe.” Her fingers toyed with the fraying, faded floral print of the armchair. “I started working for SHIELD when I was 20 years old, and worked for them for about five years before my rather unfortunate incarceration. Before that I was a soldier in the US military, joined when I was 17, did my first tour when I was 18 and was pulled from active duty two years later. Did a few missions in Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, the works.”

“Why?”

Kayla’s eyes darted up to him, almost like she’d forgotten who she was talking to. “What?”

“Why’d you get pulled from duty?”

Her eyes slid from his face and focused on the wall behind him, her fingers tensing on the armrest. “Uh…” Her voice was quiet, hoarse, still. “Failed mission.”

“What mission?” Bucky pushed further.

Her face snapped back to glare at him, holding his glare with anger and pain smouldering in her eyes. “I don’t have to tell you that to earn your trust,” she growled at him.

Bucky dropped his gaze, mouth softening slightly as he felt a quick jab of empathy with her, knowing what it was like to have missions you didn’t want to admit to being part of. But he could tell from experience that, whatever it was, whatever had happened, it had been her fault and that people had probably got hurt, maybe even died. He didn’t look back up at her, just waited silently for her to continue.

Kayla closed her eyes briefly and turned her head away, regaining her composure. Just stop thinking about it… Clearing her throat, she made herself relax enough to clear her head. “SHIELD found me a few months after I… retired,” she continued. “Fury said that I had potential, and I needed a job so… Here we are.” A short, harsh laugh pushed past her lips. “I got trained, decided to go freelance and started working.”

“Doing what?”

She laughed again. “Isn’t it obvious?” Lifting her hands, she opened her arms and gestured around them. “I’m an assassin!” Dropping her hands back down, she shifted in her seat. “But then again, who isn’t these days? I mean, look at you.” Her eyes travelled up and down the man seated opposite her. “I’m an amateur compared to what you’ve done. Oh well,” she shrugged and looked away, flicking a piece of hair out of her eyes. “At least my work was for a worthy cause, not Hydra.” Her words were almost challenging, an urge to provoke a response out of her rival.

“SHIELD was Hydra,” Bucky snapped, anger rising in his veins as his muscles tensed at the mention of his former puppetmasters.

Kayla raised a finger and smirked at him. “The beauty of being freelance, my friend. I never technically worked for SHIELD and therefore, never for Hydra.”

“Is that what you say to justify what you did?” Bucky shot back.

“If it helps me sleep better at night, yeah, it is.”

He gave her a dirty look and huffed slightly. “You’re full of shit,” he muttered, mouth set into a hard line as he looked away from her as if that would stop the turmoil in his brain from realising she was just like he was, except she was unashamed, cunning in her way of thinking about her work. Avoiding the blame to maintain her pride. He was just letting the blame tear him apart. He had no idea which method was better, but he knew it wasn’t her’s.

“That’s the secret to being in our line of work, honey,” she replied softly, smiling at him with a slightly maniacal glint in her eye, and Bucky wondered, not for the first time, if she was sane at all. “We’re all just full of shit and self-importance, and that’s what makes us the best. Because we’re the only ones who actually believe we can change anything about this world.”

 

The sun began dipping below the skyline beyond the musty hotel room, the brilliant orange sky bleeding through the thin curtains and making the room glow with amber hues. The two assassins sat in silence, neither meeting the other’s eyes as they lost themselves in the endless maze of thoughts inside them. Bucky deliberated his next move, he should probably stay with Kayla, but he felt in no way safe around her anymore. At least now he knew her motives, theoretically, but she’d proved herself to be an exceptional liar so for all he knew she was leading him into a trap, catching him and selling him to the highest bidder like a poacher. His hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves straining against his muscles as his lips tightened in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He jumped, eyes darting up at the sound of Kayla’s words shattering the silence. “What.”

“I know it’s none of my business… But uh…” She seemed awkward for some reason, her words fumbling in her mouth before being spoken. “How did Hydra turn you from what you were into… this?” She sat forwards, all teasing gone from her face, leaving only open, earnest curiousity. “Was it drugs? Brainwashing? You were Captain America’s right hand man, what the hell happened?”

The words shot into Bucky’s mind like a dozen little knives, a frantic mix of fear, anger and a thousand other feelings he couldn’t explain buzzing around his mind as she spoke. The leather on his left hand glove cracked and tore as his metal hand clenched even harder.

Kayla flinched back at the sound of the fabric breaking. Shit… “I’m sorry,” she said hastily, sitting back and twisting her hands awkwardly in her lap. “I… It’s none of my business,” she repeated. Even though she just confessed a lot to him, she understood the importance of boundaries, and she’d obviously hit a nerve with her question. Patiently, she waited for him to calm down, watching his body language carefully with her left hand resting on her unseen knife still strapped to her thigh.

Bucky forced himself to take a deep breath in, feeling his brain begin to settle in the silence that had fallen over the room. “How did they know you?” he asked, his voice strangely hoarse, wrenching against his vocal chords.

“Huh?”

“The guys from before.”

“Oh.” Kayla didn’t think she’d ever hear Barnes saying more than five words at a time. “They’re called the Draconis. I ran into them three years back. The guy, Dante, his son was becoming a bit of a problem for the Italian government, so they asked Fury to send someone in that couldn’t be traced back to them to… sort him out,” she said candidly. “When I found his base, he was running the biggest arms dealing and trafficking ring in Europe. I managed to kill the son but Dante captured me and held me in the Draconis base for three weeks before SHIELD got off their asses and pulled me out,” she told him with cool, emotionless tones.

“How did they know who I was?” His fingers tensed on the armrest.

Kayla paused before replying in a rush. “They are a subsection of Hydra.” Her eyes darted over Barnes’ face, trying to gauge his reaction, but she found him unreadable. “They must have heard about you through the grapevine. I’m sorry.”

“And they’re going to be looking for us.”

“Yeah…. Which is why we need to get back to Fury in New York pronto. He’s the only one who can protect us, the guy has secret bunkers coming out of his ass,” Kayla snorted. “That’s where I’m supposed to take you, by the way,” she continued in a more serious tone. “You still up for the ride?”

Bucky didn’t reply for a moment, just deliberated silently in his head about his answer. What other choice did he have? If he was honest with himself, saying yes was inevitable. She’d take him to New York no matter what he said, and he’d rather walk with her rather than getting dragged behind. At least she was offering him a small modicum of freedom, and the chance to answer some burning questions he had about his past.

“Fine,” he said simply, looking her dead in the eye. “Let’s go to New York.”

Kayla grinned at his terse words. “We just gotta make one quick stop first…” Her grin slid into a sly smile, her dark eyes glittering wickedly.

***

“This is a horrible idea,” Bucky informed Kayla as they moved through the crowded station.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” she snorted in reply, navigating the waves of commuters all around them, the soles of her newly stolen shoes feeling stiff as she tried to walk faster. Given that their old clothes were covered in grime and blood, they had lifted some new gear from various stores and clothing lines around the city. Now feeling clean and ready for action in her short black leather jacket she couldn’t bear to leave behind, a plain white tee and black skinny jeans, Kayla felt some of her old zest returning in her walk. At times like this, she felt like she could rule the world.

“Come on, we gotta get tickets,” she continued and began heading towards the small window set into the wall of the huge concourse of the Termini Station, the sunlight shining through the sloping beams of the ceiling above them casting long, thin stripes on the squeaky clean white floor.

“Two tickets from Rome to Prague, please,” she said to the ticket officer behind the window. “Keep an eye out for our friends,” she told Bucky in undertones, her eyes scanning the concourse before turning back to the window.

He did as he was told as Kayla began communicating with the ticket officer, negotiating price and picking seats. It would take about 4 hours to reach Prague from Rome directly, and he just hoped they wouldn’t have to stop anywhere on the way. At least it seemed that Kayla had almost unlimited funds for this mission, because he was completely tapped out after using the last of the money in his Hydra account for the plane ticket to Rome. And now he was just running away again… What a waste of money that had been. Glancing over his shoulder at the woman behind him, a brief feeling of admiration for her coolness under pressure washed over him. He turned away before the feeling could grow anymore and focused on his task. She had said that Draconis would be monitoring the airports more than the stations, but they should still be cautious, and after only getting a couple of hours sleep the night before, he was feeling on edge, like a cornered dog.

“Hey, here,” Kayla broke through his thoughts and tapped his arm with the back of her hand, holding out a train ticket. “Eurostar, first class. Fury is not going to be happy, but that’s the only seats they had. Relax,” she paused and gave him a wink. “I used fake names. Come on, we got to get to the platform.” Turning on her heel, she began to stride towards the long escalators leading up to the upper platforms.

Bucky looked down at his ticket. First class. Four hours. Next to Kayla.

 

As soon as she settled into the plush, dark navy first class seat, Kayla felt the tendrils of sleep begin curling around her brain. She’d barely slept last night, what with having to take second watch and being constantly aware of Barnes being only a few feet away. Still, she hadn’t been murdered then, so she was probably safe to catch a bit of shut eye now.

“Hey, Barnes,” she said quietly, shifting in her seat to face him. “I’m going to try and sleep now. Wake me if anyone… you know…” she settled back and shut her eyes as the train’s motor began powering up, “tries to kill us or anything.”

Bucky rolled his eyes slightly, a sharp retort on the end of his tongue before he realised and felt it quickly fade. That was odd… He never normally felt the need to answer back to anything, or remembered the last time he rolled his eyes. He swallowed the feelings down and sat back in his seat, his mind sinking back into layers of thought that blocked out the sounds and sights of reality around him.

_“There, in Prague. One my weapons caches is in the city, we can reload there before moving someplace else.”_

_“Where?”_

At his question, Kayla had leaned back from the map laid out on the bed, shrugging. _“I don’t know. Zurich. We can contact Fury from there.”_

Although he’d never admit it, Bucky liked the feeling of having a plan. It reminded him of being on a mission, but not like the ones he’d run as the Winter Soldier, it was a feeling older than that, something he couldn’t match to a memory but was just there at the back of his mind. Maybe this was how it had felt when he was part of… what was it? The Howling Commandos, he remembered from the exhibit. And if he was truthful with himself, Kayla wasn’t that bad as a team mate. Sure she’d lied, pretty much nonstop since they’d met, but she knew her stuff, he had to give her that. If she would just stop her constant sarcastic retorts and teasing smiles, he’d probably find her a lot more tolerable. Who could do the kind of work they did and be like that, always ready to smirk and make a joke?

His head rolled to the side to stare at Kayla’s sleeping face. Ok, so she was pretty. More like gorgeous, with lips that were always drawn up at the sides slightly like an archer’s bow, dusky, light olive skin that made her dark eyes look all the more intense, especially when she was glaring at him. All this he’d noticed, apart from the glaring thing, when he’d seen her on the plane, his eyes taking in every detail of her face in an instant as he profiled her threat level in his head. But she’d gone from being a pretty girl to a deadly human weapon in the space of a short afternoon. Now he didn’t know what to think of her, so he was trying to not think about her at all, deliberately not noticing anything that wasn’t useful or telling about her character.

Like how she wore a mask all the time. Not like his mask, her’s was metaphorical, invisible to someone who didn’t walk the same dark path as they both did. He’d noticed it when he was pretending to sleep during her watch the night before. Lying awake for hours, one hand clutching his dagger under the pillow, eyes narrowed to appear closed, he’d watched her all night, ready to strike in an instant. As she watched the city outside the window, he’d noticed how the brightness of her eyes, the teasing smile lying at the corner of her mouth, had vanished in the early morning hours when she was absorbed in her thoughts. When she was resting, she looked almost sad, lost, broken. Bucky had to wonder if that’s what he looked like to her, just a lost, discarded asset with no path left to follow. He hoped not. It was one of the saddest things he had seen since his mind had begun to resurface from the Hydra spell.

All this flashed through his mind as quickly as it took the train to begin pulling out of the station.

 

Kayla slept for exactly one hour and 15 minutes before her brain automatically jerked her awake. Her head lolled forwards from where it had been resting on the seat and she widened her eyes, trying to clear the shadows of sleepiness from them as she looked around, stretching out her arms in front of her. Barnes was still awake, his eyes methodically searching the carriage. They’d start off at one end, move slowly to the other side, then back again, and repeat the cycle.

“Jesus, Barnes, do you never sleep…” she muttered, her voice thick and rusty.

He ignored her.

Rolling her eyes, she turned to look out of the window at the countryside flashing past, only the fields sitting on the horizon line unblurred as the train whizzed past at dizzying speeds. Europe was so picturesque sometimes, she thought sleepily as they passed a field filled with cows. At least she assumed the black and white blurs that just zoomed past were cows.

As they shot into a tunnel, she turned away from the window, the carriage filling with rapidly flashing white lights from the tunnel’s interior, pulsing against the strip lighting on the carriage’s ceiling. It made it look like the compartment around her was throbbing and she closed her eyes, feeling sick.

Bucky’s hands tightened around the arm rests as they moved further through the tunnel, the dimly flashing lights starting to stab against his eyes as he felt the train turn, throwing his body into the side of the seat with gentle gravity. His jaw twitched, the lights burning his retinas and making tiny spots appear all over his vision. What was happening? Had he been poisoned? Or was it just fatigue? No… he felt like his muscles were fusing together, adrenaline spiking his skin and making the skin joining to his metal shoulder twitch and bite against the bolts holding him together.

Squeezing his eyes shut, his breath began to force its way out of his chest through his gritted teeth. What the hell was going on? The question bounced around and around in his head, whispering harshly in his ears and joined by screams of _WHERE AM I?? WHAT’S HAPPENING?? WHO’S HURTING ME??_ The buzzing sound of a surgical saw grated against the inside of his brain, the lights still flashing through his eyelids, faces hidden by masks swimming in and out of his mind’s eye. Pain… He was in so much _pain_ , where was he? There were people everywhere, looking down at him, their faces cast into grotesque shadows by the flashing lights above their heads. He was strapped to a table, his fingers scraping against the cold metal as he tried to break free but oh god… what had they done to his arm!?

_Barnes…_ a voice hissed in his ear, the word shifting between two tones, one spoken softly in a strange accent, the voice oddly strangled and high, the other like a whisper, slightly lower and more throaty. The sound made him feel sick and he tried to cry out, sweat running down his face like water as he desperately tried to force his eyes open.

_Barnes!_

All he could hear was the first voice and the strange way it said his name, stretching out the a and almost skipping over the n. Stop it! he tried to scream, his body spasming as he pulled against the restraints. Another voice echoed behind the first, whispering _James… Barnes… Barnes!_ He couldn’t take it anymore, his heart was beating so hard it felt like it was pressed against his swollen, aching lungs. He had to get out, he had to get out, he had-

“Bucky!”

His eyes flew open.

He was back on the train, mind slowing from the whirlwind as he began to remember himself. His fingers flexed and loosened, his left ones pulling free from the deep grooves they’d scratched into the arm rest. Blinking, his head rolled forwards, squinting in the sunlight that now poured through the windows.

“Are you ok?”

At the sound of the familiar voice beside him his head swung round to see Kayla staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. He felt a slight pressure on his left forearm and looked down to see her hand resting on it. He felt numb. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out of his mouth.

Her hand slid from his arm as she realised he was alright, or awake at least. “You had a panic attack,” she said haltingly. “It’s like you went into shock or something, you couldn’t even hear me, I kept calling your name but…” Her breath huffed out of her in a relieved, shaky sigh as she rubbed her hand over her face. “I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

“I heard you,” he murmured, his voice rasping against his throat.

Kayla pressed her lips together, unsure of whether she should tell him he’d only seemed to hear her when she called him Bucky. Should she call him that all the time? She’d been referring to him as Barnes the whole time but if he didn’t respond to that name… She shook the thoughts off, now was not the time, especially since he was recovering from a pretty bad panic attack.

“You should get some sleep,” she told him awkwardly, not sure what she should do. Panic attacks she could deal with, panic attacks from a crazed, unpredictable assassin she wasn’t so sure about. “Here, drink this.” She held out a cup of water that had been placed on her tray table while she was sleeping, either by Barnes or a train steward. “It’ll help.”

He took it, the muscles in his hand still twitching slightly as he took a sip, the cool liquid soothing his burning throat. His eyes stung as he blinked more, trying to maintain his composure, but inside he was shaking. Was this fear? He hadn’t felt it in so long he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t felt anything in so long, but now his mind was flooded with feelings he couldn’t name, and he could do nothing but float helplessly in the currents.

Kayla turned to look at him, concern lacing her face. “Seriously, get some sleep. Please,” she added in a softer tone.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t sleep last night?” Her eyes snapped up to stare into his, and his mouth tightened at the intensity in her gaze. “That you stayed awake, watching me the whole time? Because I did.” Her voice lowered as she leaned in, not wanting to be overheard. “I notice everything around me, Barnes. You think I got to where I am with… what, a quick smile? A smart joke? I’m the best at what I do, remember that. I’m on your side, ok, so you might want to take my advice and go the fuck to sleep.” She slumped back in her seat, mouth downturned and a frown lining her brow.

Bucky took back everything he’d thought about her earlier. He didn’t know her at all, and clearly looks were very deceiving. He wondered if he’d ever actually understand her, and once again why he cared so much. Maybe because if he understood someone like her, he could understand himself too, he thought dimly as he began to feel himself sinking into the comforting abyss of sleep.

***

Bucky’s eyes snapped open. “Something’s happening,” he said quickly, feeling the motors of the train begin to slow down, the low hum that filled the carriage fading quickly.

Kayla looked up from her kindle, scanning the compartment. “Yeah,” she replied, shifting up in her seat to peer around. “I think…” Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a train steward marching quickly up the aisle towards the drivers’ room. “We’re in trouble.”

As she spoke the last word, the train lurched to a halt, throwing Kayla forwards.

“Ciao, posso avere l'attenzione per favore. Abbiamo dovuto fare una breve sosta per un problema tecnico, ci scusiamo per l'inconveniente,” a smooth voice said over the speakers, and Bucky looked at Kayla for translation.

“He says we’ve stopped because of technical problems,” she said grimly. “They’re going to search the train…” she trailed off, her eyes darting around as she tried to form a plan, but nothing came to mind. She’d never been trapped on a train before, and if they moved people would notice, but if they didn’t they’d be found, she didn’t know what to do.

“What do we do?”

She winced at the question, her eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t…” Rubbing her forehead, she ground her teeth together, practically tearing her mind apart looking for an answer. “I’ve never been in this situation before,” she confessed.

Bucky watched her, frowning as his mind began whirring into action, falling into familiar patterns of strategy and tactic. “Come on,” he growled, standing up and walking towards the rear of the carriage, pressed the button for the doors separating them from the other car.

Kayla glanced around before following him. “What are you doing?” she hissed as they moved quickly down the narrow corridor of the sleeper car. She didn’t know if trusting him not to lead her into a trap was a good idea, but then again she didn’t exactly have a choice. She just had to hope that he’d become the infamous Winter Soldier for a reason.

Bucky stopped in front of one of the doors, listening for a moment before striking the wood just above the handle swiftly with his metal arm. The lock broke, the door swinging open and he slipped inside, Kayla shadowing him.

“Ok, what do we do now? Take a nap?” she snapped, her tone on the verge of hysterical. Pushing the door shut again, she held it closed as Barnes began moving around the room, throwing pillows to one side as he searched the wall behind the bed for something, then took a few steps back to trace the ceiling with his eyes. “What the hell are you looking for?” She felt her breath begin to quicken in panic as she heard distant sounds of boots thudding on the thin carpet outside. They were running out of time.

He ignored her, lifting his hand to run it over a small seam in the roof of the compartment, following it to the wardrobe. “Here,” he said over his shoulder, opening the mock-wood doors of the wardrobe and finally finding what he was looking for. “Get in,” he ordered, grabbing her arm and shoving her roughly into the wardrobe before stepping in beside her and placing his hands on the low ceiling, pushing against it with all his strength.

Kayla wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to squeeze further into the cramped space to give herself more room, painfully aware that she was standing inches away from someone who could end her life in seconds without even trying. She had her knives, but she couldn’t use them in such small quarters, and all he needed to do was reach out and grab her neck, and snap her like a twig. She hated feeling powerless. As the creaking sound of straining plastic and metal began filling the wardrobe, she looked up, seeing the ceiling panel he was pushing against starting to lift up slightly.

“Of course…” she whispered, a smile growing on her face as she realised what he was trying to do, her panic lost in the hope of escape.

That hope was crushed before she could take another breath as she heard the sound of the compartment door opening. Kayla felt her heart stop and her hand darted up, stopping Bucky from pushing on the panel any more. Silence pressed against her ears as she leaned forwards slightly, her breathing sounding treacherously loud as she peered through the crack between the wardrobe doors. A man dressed in the horrifyingly familiar black military gear was standing in the middle of the room, scanning every corner meticulously as he turned, looking for any signs of their intrusion.

Pressing a hand against her mouth to try and stop herself from breathing any faster, Kayla looked up at Barnes, his hands still resting on the ceiling, her eyes wide. She really didn’t want this to turn into a fight, mainly because she knew they were hopelessly outnumbered and had the disadvantage. There was no way they could come out of this swinging, the adrenaline from the shock shooting through her body and making her legs shake with the effort of staying perfectly still. Her hands moved to the knives at her back and she held Barnes’ stare, glancing towards the door, then back at him.

He seemed to understand as he slowly, painfully manoeuvred his arms downwards, his hand ready to grab his own dagger strapped to his left leg through a hole in his pocket.

Together they waited for agonisingly long seconds as the soldier’s boots began thudding dully towards the wardrobe door. Kayla held her breath as the man’s body blocked out the light seeping through the crack and tightened her hand around the hilt of her knife, ready to plunge it into his chest as soon as-

“Stop! Fermata!” a sharp voice ordered from the doorway, making her jump as it cut through the strained silence.

The light was replaced as the man moved back, and Kayla could hear him taking a few steps away. Her eyes darted to Bucky’s, seeing him oddly glacial, with no surprise or shock registered in his eyes.

“They are not here,” the voice continued in Italian, Kayla straining to catch the muffled words through the door. “We move on to the other trains. We have to find the codes before they leave, neither of them can get away. When we find them, we bring them back alive. The Winter Soldier may be useful to us, but the Red Blade must be protected. If we lose those codes, we lose everything.”

She frowned in confusion. She understood why they’d want Barnes, an offshoot of Hydra like Draconis would jump at the chance at getting the Winter Soldier back, even if he had defected, but the bit about the codes? What was that about? It was related to her in some way, but she didn’t have any codes. What the hell was going on here…

The sound of both the soldiers leaving and closing the door banished her thoughts as she focused on the present again. She could figure out the riddle of the codes later, now wasn’t the time.

“I think they’re gone,” she whispered, turning back to Barnes.

He listened for a second before nodding once.

There was an awkward pause, and Kayla once again grew hypersensitive of the cramped space. “Uh… you wanna get out first?” she asked as he didn’t move to get out of the wardrobe.

He looked down, seeing how close they were standing. “I can’t move,” he said haltingly, his face growing uncomfortably hot as he tried to unwedge himself. He really shouldn’t have lowered his arms, he’d become completely stuck.

Kayla stared at him for a moment before laughter bubbled out from her chest, her hand pressed against her mouth again to muffle it. “This is honestly the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in,” she coughed out as her laughter subsided, her cheeks flushed as she tried to regain her composure. “We should have really thought about this…” Glancing up at him, her hand dropped from her mouth as she saw the ghost of a smile twitch one edge of his mouth before he turned his face away. “Holy shit, was… was that a smile?”

He didn’t reply, just tried to move his elbows, slowly working them free and trying to ignore how nice her laugh had sounded. He hadn’t heard someone laugh, genuinely laugh, around him for a long time.

“Gee, Barnes, I didn’t even know you could do that, are you feeling ok?”

He tightened his lips, giving his left arm a wrench and pulling it free, hearing the sound of splintering from the wood back of the wardrobe. He opened the doors, light falling on both their faces and he looked at her, expecting her to hop out quickly but caught her staring at him still.

“What?” he said defensively.

She blinked, shaking her head. “Nothing. Sorry.” She looked away, going to step out but lost her balance as the train jerked into movement again, making her fumble backwards, her hands automatically bracing on the wall and Barnes’ chest. Her face froze with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she snatched her hand away as if she’d been burnt, blood rushing to her face again. Jesus, what was this, a shitty cliché romcom? Not that she knew any romcoms about international assassins….

She quickly hopped out of the wardrobe before anything else could go wrong and ran a hand over her hair to try and clear her whirling mind. “We should get back to our seats,” she said awkwardly, not looking at Barnes as he got out of the wardrobe. That guy was like a sphinx anyway, whatever thoughts he was having never registered on his face.

They both moved quickly through the carriage and sat back down, nobody in the carriage any the wiser to their absence. As Kayla sat back and stared out of the window, the conversation she’d overheard ran through her mind again. What codes were they talking about? Codes for weapons? A computer programme? A lock? Her face tightened into a frown as the questions tripped over themselves in her head. Barnes didn’t have to know about it either way. The main thing now was to get to Zurich as quickly as possible to contact Fury, everything else was merely background noise, she thought as she tried to cast the thoughts to the back of her mind as the landscape raced past her eyes, but they clung to the sides of her brain, taunting her as the train sped on through the countryside.

 

_Protect the Red Blade…_

_Protect the codes…_


	5. Straight up Snoopin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this chapter was supposed to be light and fun but got real emotional real quick so I apologise for that. Please tell me what you think of this chapter because I struggled a lot writing it! Also please say if you'd like them to be longer because I'm a bit concerned my uploads are a bit short...

“The cache is on the top floor,” Kayla told Barnes, looking all the way up the 30-storey City Tower.  She followed the building up with her eyes, having to shade them despite wearing sunglasses as the sun glinted off the endless windows.

Bucky’s scowl deepened. “You had to put it right at the top.”

Kayla shot him a dirty look. “Hey, I didn’t put it there! It technically isn’t mine,” she retorted defensively, shoving her thumbs into the tiny pockets of her skinny jeans. Despite the sun shining there was a definite chill in the air and she shivered under her coat. Leather wasn’t the warmest of fabrics, her body armour offered little insulation and she was wearing a sleeveless vest underneath so at this point she just wanted to get inside.

“…What,” Bucky asked, dreading the answer.

“It belonged to one of my targets and he generously gave it to me,” Kayla explained, sighing. “SHIELD put it in lockdown when I was arrested but Fury released it to me.” She shrugged. “I cached in a favour.”

“You did not just say that…” Bucky muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, all his faith in humanity huffed out in a deep, exasperated sigh.

“I think you’ll find I did.” Kayla squared her shoulders and took a step closer to the edge of the curb. “Come on. Time to go to work,” she said grimly to Barnes over her shoulder as she began to walk across the road, her pace long and purposeful, her short hair blowing back in the slight breeze as she entered the shadows cast by the soaring buildings above her.

 

The lobby of the building was silent except for two receptionists tapping on their computers, not even noticing when the two assassins entered their presence, making hardly any noise on the polished white floor. Striding up to their desk like she owned the place, Kayla rang the bell sharply to get their attention.

“Elevator?” she asked, not bothering to lower her shades to talk to them. Her eyes flicked to the surveillance screens behind them, searching for the 30th floor CCTV feed. It was crawling with black-clad shapes pacing up and down the hallways with guns held in their hands. Perfect. She looked back at the receptionists, her eyes narrows to deadly, rage-filled slits behind her glasses.

They stared at her in stunned silence before the woman raised her hand to point a red-nail finger to her left, her eyes wide and slightly shocked behind her thick, black rimmed spectacles.

Kayla gave her a wide grin. “Thanks!” Turning, the grin dropped from her lips as her face sank back into cold, emotionless calculation and she jerked her head for Barnes to follow her.

“What’s the plan?” he asked as they stepped inside the elevator, the brushed steel doors closing smoothly behind them as Kayla pressed the button for the top floor. His eyes darted to the camera in the corner of the elevator.

She knelt down, placing the briefcase carefully on the floor. “Take care of that, will you?” she asked, motioning towards the camera as she reached behind her back, drawing out the gun she’d tucked into her belt.

Bucky nodded and reached out with his metal hand, grasping the thin wire attaching it to the power supply just under the lense so it would look like the camera just went dead, tugging it sharply. At the sound of an ammo clip being locked into place, he spun around, his eyes wild and hands automatically lifting up into a defensive stance.

“Oh relax,” Kayla snorted. “Here.” She held out the loaded gun to him.

He hesitated before taking it. He guessed part of being allies meant they could trust each other with weapons, but it still felt strange to have someone giving him a gun and just trusting he wouldn’t use it on them without being ordered not to.

“You don’t need it?” he asked gruffly.

Surprise flashed behind her eyes before she smiled at him conspiratorially. “I don’t need guns, remember. Besides, that’s my only one and according to your file, you’re a great shot. So congratulations, you just got point,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone.  

His fingers tightened around the gun as he watched the numbers grow higher on the tiny screen set above the buttons. _20… 21….22_ His heart race increased to match the flashing digits.

Kayla cricked her neck from side to side as she shook out her arms, automatically loosening herself up before the fight, her muscles snapping into readiness as adrenaline began powering through her veins. “There’s going to be at least 10 guards just on the first corridor when we exit,” she said grimly, shrugging off her coat and drawing one of the two long, curved knives from her back sheaths, spinning it expertly in her fingers.

“I thought you said this was your weapons cache,” Bucky replied in an equally dark tone, staring at the doors.

“It is. But they’re gonna know we’re coming.” Kayla’s lips tightened. “I saw the feed down at the front desk. 10 guards in front of us as soon as we exit.”

“I’ll take them.”

“They have machine guns,” she snapped, removing her glasses and throwing them onto the floor dismissively. “We do this together.”

Bucky glanced over at her, the sharp tone of her voice cutting through his opinions of her. Every time he thought he had her pegged down she would turn around and become another person entirely. Multi-faceted… his eyes darted over her, lean muscles tensed and ready, standing already in a half-fighting stance, dark eyes grim and hard as they fixed themselves on the steel doors. The Red Blade and Winter Soldier, two master assassins with probably more kills than they could count between them. The guards upstairs were sure going to be in for one hell of a shock when those doors opened. Clicking the safety off his gun, he pushed every thought except one out of his mind, letting it bounce off the walls of his skull, filling him with power as it surged through his entire body.

*** 

The guards lined the walls like crows, their guns aimed at the elevator doors in careful patience. The targets were coming, they’d been ordered to disable with as much force as possible without killing them. In other words, they could break bone, slice skin, snap tendons, as long as the targets’ minds remained intact, and air still passed through their lungs.

The sharp, business-like ping of the elevator arriving at the 30th floor rang through the air, fingers immediately tightening around triggers as the doors began sliding open to reveal

Nobody was in the elevator.

The commanding officer stood, his brow furrowed with angry confusion as he signalled three guards to enter the metal box. He’d seen the footage of the targets entering the elevator before the camera cut out, and it hadn’t stopped on any other floor so what the hell was going on?

As the guards swarmed into the elevator, Kayla strained her neck to look at Buck beside her, suspended flat against the ceiling, their hands bracing their weight on the walls and clinging onto the shallow grooves of the strip lighting set into the ceiling. He caught her eye and she nodded.

Bucky shifted his weight to his left arm as he carefully unwound his fingers from the light fixtures, reaching into the waistband of his jeans at the front where he’d tucked his gun, drawing it and aiming at the heads of the guards below them. The slowness of the movements strained against his muscles, sweat beading on his brow with the effort of remaining perfectly quiet and still as his finger tightened around the trigger.

The first gunshot sliced through the air, the second and third following quickly after and bringing a cacophony of sound as the shots echoed through the hallway and the guards fell heavily to the lift floor.

Kayla dropped to the ground, spinning quickly into the cover of the corner between the door and wall as bullets slammed into the mirrors lining the elevator, the sound of splintering and crashing glass filling her mind. Glancing up at Bucky, she raised a hand before pointing at the corner beside her.

_Cover me,_ her hands signed, and he nodded swiftly.

Sliding down the wall, she picked up a shard of mirror from the floor and angled it to reflect the scene outside the elevator. 7 guards left, 3 on the left, 4 on the right. Heavily armoured in bullet proof vests. A sick grin slid across her face. Idiots. Bullet proof vests weren’t stab proof, it’s like they weren’t even trying. Reaching into her thigh holster, she pulled out her throwing blade and watched her breath ghost across the sleek metal. She tensed the muscles in her legs, readying herself before standing and whirling out from her cover, the blade releasing from her fingers and thudding into the body of the first guard on the right.

Before the guards in front of her could take another breath, she drew the other blade at her back and darted into the corridor, spinning as she moved forwards, her blades slicing through the vests of the next guards, blood spraying out like a fountain as the knife cut through them like butter.

“Now!” she yelled as she bent backwards to avoid a barrage of bullets, flipping upright and sinking the knife into the throat of the shooter, tugging it out of their larynx, a mist of blood coating the blade.

Bucky dropped to the floor and shot two guards in the head as he landed, catlike.

As she heard the bodies dropping to the floor behind her, Kayla sliced through the stomach of the last guard in a powerful, backhand stroke, the muscles in her arms releasing in a whiplike grace.

“Well…” She turned to look at Barnes as he stepped out of the elevator, his eyes dark and grim as he took in the gruesome scene before them. “That was easy,” she said breathlessly, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand as a mix of sweat and blood dripped down her skin.

Bucky didn’t reply, just stooped and picked up a machine gun from one of the corpses. He tucked the gun into the back of his waistband again as he held the heavy weapon in one hand, fingers curling around its familiar bulk.

“What?” Kayla frowned at him as she pulled her throwing knife from the chest of the first guard she’d killed. “Don’t tell me this stuff makes you uncomfortable?”

His eyes scanned the short hallway, focusing on two cameras on each wall before taking a step backwards, twisting round to glare at Kayla. “Next time, let me take them,” he growled at her, his eyes burning into hers.

“Fine,” she said darkly, holding his gaze coolly. His eyes were different from before, cold, harsh, filled with rage and intensity. The eyes of a killer.

He narrowed his eyes before turning and shooting the cameras, the lenses exploding into dust.

 

The two assassins sprinted down the polished, featureless white hallways, their boots squeaking on the floor and weapons held at the ready.

“Left!” Kayla shouted at the man in front of her and skidded to a halt, pressing herself against the cold wall as Barnes stopped and shot the guard aiming at them from inside one of the empty rooms lining the corridor. The sun glinted at them from across the city through the ceiling-high wall of windows on the other side.

“We’re nearly there,” she said, panting slightly as she joined Barnes, her knifes still held in her hands.

“Then what?” he shot back. “There’s gonna be more guards up there.”

She made a face. “I know. Look, just let me go in first, I can take them,” she said, not looking at him as she made to take a step towards the dead guard, but Barnes grabbed her forearm in a vice-like grip.

“I have an idea,” he muttered.

 

“And you said my idea was terrible,” Kayla grumbled as she crawled awkwardly through the air vent, her shoulders grazing the cold metal sides as she moved forwards on her hands and knees.

Bucky did his best to ignore her as he followed her, his metal arm grating against the walls and sending uncomfortable vibrations up his shoulder.

“No, really, this was a fantastic idea,” she continued as she squirmed her way around a corner. “Instead of breaking in through nice, spacious corridors, you put us up here, where we can’t fight, or run, or do much of anything except crawl slowly towards the cache.”

“Shut up…” Bucky muttered under his breath, grinding his teeth together. The machine gun he’d slung across his back bumped painfully against the ceiling.

“Obviously enhanced intelligence wasn’t among the ingredients in the Hydra super-serum.”

No response.

“If you’re doing this just to look at my ass I’ll personally punch you in the dick.”

“Just crawl,” he shot back.

Kayla growled out a sigh and tried to speed up. Skinny jeans weren’t the best attire to wear whilst navigating an air vent. “It should be just up ahead,” she said, turning another corner. “Oh…” Twisting down to glare at him from under her armpit, she raised her eyebrows. “Your plan just gained a whole new level of bullshit.” Shifting down the t-junction of adjoining vents, she let him look round the corner, nodding in an annoyed fashion as she saw him take in the massive gap between their vent and the next, a grid set into the base and marking their exit.

“So what do we do?” she asked as he shuffled back to face her.

“We jump.”

Her eyebrows shot up to meet her hairline again. “Excuse me?”

“We jump,” he repeated, jerking his head to the side. “You first.”

She shook her head. “No. Your idea, you go first,” she replied insistently.

He shot her a scowl before starting to make his way around the corner. Stopping just before the 6-foot wide gap, he peered down the gap, seeing the bottom of the vent vanish into inky darkness. The air rising from the abyss told him that it was impossibly deep, maybe even went down the entire building. Falling was not an option.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted position to sit on the edge of the gap, arm muscles bulging in tension as he lowered himself to dangle off the edge, his back pressed against the side of the vent and his trusty metal arm the only thing holding him up. His right arm began reaching out to the other side as he braced himself with his feet, his body turned to the side as he stretched out his leg as far as he could without pulling his left hand away from the vent.

Kayla watched as Barnes strained to reach the other side, his right leg dangling uselessly as he stretched himself out, braced only by his left leg and hand. It wasn’t going to work, the gap was slightly too large… He had to have some momentum in order to reach it… And if he couldn’t do it how could she? She was about an inch shorter than him, if he couldn’t reach it there’s no way she could.

Bucky’s back muscles screamed in protest as he forced himself to stretch out further, his fingertips barely an inch from the edge of the vent. He could heard his metal fingers grating against the metal as they began to shift, practically straightening as he pushed out towards his goal. Suddenly, his left hand was grasping nothing and in the split second before gravity took hold, he kicked out his leg and propelled himself forwards, slamming into the other side, his right hand gripping the edge. His heart beat a barrage against his ribs as the shock cut through him, his left arm swinging up and  he pulled himself up the side of the vent, breathing hard.

Kayla stared at him from the other side, her throat hurting from when her breath had pulled back into her as Barnes almost fell. Her wide eyes met his, and he caught a glimpse of pure, raw fear behind them.

She was scared of heights…

Swallowing hard, Kayla edged closer to the gap, following Barnes’ lead as she swivelled round to perch on the side, trying to ignore the sick feeling that rose in her stomach at the moaning, rushing sound of the drop in front of her. Her hands gripped the edge so tight she thought her knuckles would burst through her skin, sweat making them slick. Wiping them hastily on her jeans, she closed her eyes momentarily before steeling herself, and began lowering herself into the void. Immediately her muscles began to protest as she stretched out her right arm to reach the other side, her leg straightening shakily as she attempted to copy Barnes’ technique.

Bucky watched her tensely, hands tightening into fists as he knelt, leaning towards her in readiness should she begin to fall. He didn’t know why his heart hadn’t stopped beating so fast, it was almost like it was beating enough for her fear as well as his. And he hated it… he hadn’t felt fear in so long and now he seemed unable to control it, feeling every emotion to the max as it swept through his mind. And right now his entire body was saturated with the stale, bitter taste of fear.

A yelp of pain slipped past Kayla’s lips as she stretched out as much as she could, her body twisted and strained as her shaking fingers scrabbled through the empty air for the safety of the other side. “I….can’t…” she choked out, before her fingers slipped off the edge of the vent and she felt her body being tugged down into the abyss.

A short scream barely had time to escape her mouth before a hand grabbed her wrist and her body slammed into the vent’s wall, air heaving from her lungs as raw fear swept her body, her mind barely able to process what happened. She felt herself being pulled up and automatically reached up to grab the edge of the drop to help.

“Th….Thanks,” she stammered, the shock still zinging around her body as she knelt in the vent, her muscles shaking. Looking up, she caught sight of Barnes’ face twitching with confusion and shock before he turned away, his hair swinging over his shoulder and hiding his expression.

He didn’t reply. He was extremely aware that he’d just saved someone’s life, for the second time. It was starting to become second nature to him, like his brain was falling into familiar, protective patterns. Swallowing, he pushed those thoughts down and peered through the grid in front of them, into a wide, open room below.

Shelves and glass-fronted cases lined the walls, filled with every type of weapon he could ever imagine. “This… This is all yours?” he murmured as his eyes took it all in, endless guns and knives and grenades and things he couldn’t even recognise stretched out below him.

“Uh huh,” she replied, her voice still shaking slightly as she squeezed in beside him, looking down the grate at the cache. “What do you think, 15 guards down there?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. What do we do?” he asked, turning to look at her, her face inches from his and body wedged between his and the wall.

She met his gaze. “Well… since you didn’t get to go first last time….” She gave him a wicked smile, her eyes glinting with exhilaration as the thrill of the fight kicked in.

Bucky knelt upright as much as he could and swung the machine gun from his back, clicking the safety off and checking the ammo. Not much left… He had to be smart about this. “Stay here until my signal,” he ordered her, getting into place above the grate.

Kayla nodded and grasped the grate, her fingers lacing through the holes as she glanced up at him, then began lifting it carefully. The guards below them didn’t seem to notice as a piece of the ceiling was lifted up, and she leant it against the side of the vent silently and caught Barnes’ eye again. “Good luck,” she mouthed, shuffling back to give him room to jump down.

His mouth tightened and he gripped the gun harder, taking a deep breath and letting his mind sink into the silent, precise and focused fighting mode. Muscles gathering strength, he bounced up and down slightly before jumping down through the hole, landing cat like into the midst of the guards below him. Before they could react, he swung the machine gun up and mowed through the legs of the surrounding guards, their screams of pain breaking through the shocked silence as they fell to the floor.

Twisting around, Bucky shot through the chests of the guards running towards him through their fallen comrades, their bodies flying backwards, blood spraying out in a fine mist as the bullets slammed into them. Snapping upright, he spun round to aim at the rest of the targets, clicks rising from the emptied machine gun as his finger squeezed the trigger. _Dammit…_ He barely had time to duck as a guard raised a gun and fired at his head, rolling across the floor and swinging the empty weapon into the man’s legs, jabbing him in the face as he fell forwards with the end and feeling bones splinter under the impact. Spinning around, a fist slammed into his jaw, making him reel backwards into the wall. Spitting blood from his mouth, he barely had time to catch sight of the fist powering towards his face again before it made impact, his head crashing against the wall, pain exploding against his skull.

Blood dripped from his nose and his vision swam, his head a red cacophony of confusion and pain as he tried to reach behind himself for his hand gun, but his fingers couldn’t quite grasp his weapon. Time seemed to slow to a sluggish trickle as he looked around, seeing his attacker raise his fist to hit him again. Before he could react, the man’s muscles seemed to slacken and he fell to the side, and Bucky caught sight of a knife embedded in his back. His head clearing, he saw Kayla standing in front of him.

“You didn’t give me a sig-“ she began, but her words were cut off as she was cracked over the head with the butt of a gun, falling heavily to the ground, a small trickle of blood from the fresh wound running down her forehead.

“Shit,” Bucky growled, his hand scrabbling for the handgun tucked into his waistband, desperate fingers finally finding purchase as he drew it and clicked the safety off. He vaulted over Kayla’s body in front of him to shoot in mid-air at the guard, now taking shelter behind a low display unit, the glass casing exploding into their body under the barrage of bullets.

Landing heavily, he leapt up and ducked as a guard swung a fist at him. Jabbing him in the stomach with his elbow, he punched him in the face before kicking him back into another guard, knocking them both to the floor. He tossed the now spent gun to the side and spun around to face the remaining guards circling him with raised fists and switch blades.

Bucky squared his shoulders and dropped into a low fighting stance. His gun was dead, Kayla was lying unconscious to his left, he had no more tricks or weapons besides his fists. He needed to remember his training… Closing his eyes briefly, Bucky let his mind run over battle tactics, fight techniques, everything from the Winter Soldier’s mind he’d been pushing down for days, letting it well up inside him like a volcano ready to erupt in a thunderstorm of raw power.

The first swing came from his left, a deadly blade slicing through the air towards his chest, and he bent backwards, hands reaching the floor as he twisted down to avoid the blade. He felt the blade slice shallowly across his stomach, burning a line of pain across his skin. Flipping up, he kicked his assailant in her chin, making the woman’s head snap back, making her reel backwards. He straightened, and faster than lightening kicked her around the head, the sound of her neck snapping cracking sickly through the air like a gunshot.

 Another ran at him, switch blade stabbing towards his stomach. He twisted to the side and caught the hilt, pulling down hard and kneeing the attacker in the face, feeling the nose splinter. Twisting the knife back, he plunged it into the man’s gut. His heart beat a mile a minute and he paused for a millisecond, allowing himself time to breathe. Suddenly he felt thick arms encircling his chest from behind, squeezing his arms to her sides.

Bucky’s face contorted in pain as he struggled to get free, legs kicking back and arms forcing outwards, but he was held fast. Another guard appeared in front of him, empty gun held butt out in her hand, raising it above her shoulder as she swung down towards his face.

His head snapped to the side as he was struck again and again. Blood trickled down his face from his nose, his mouth, his head. Everything was a blood red stain. His mind shattered into a million pieces as memories flashed in front of his eyes, memories of pain and beatings when he didn’t do what he was told, if he didn’t do it right, if he showed any sort of mercy. His world was crashing down around his eyes and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it, every blow from the gun slamming against his skull brought up stagnant, bitter memories that he couldn’t shield himself from, his mind screaming as it was torn apart.

 He desperately kicked out and caught the guard holding him on the shin. The arms around his torso released and he fell forwards, crashing into the woman in front of him and ripping the gun from her hand, her fingers twisting and snapping into grotesque shapes as he pulled it from her. His metal hand found her throat and began squeezing, mind still screaming as his fingers tightened, the taste of blood poisoning his mouth. Another second, one last choking breath, and her neck snapped like a toothpick.

Bucky’s mind cleared as the body fell through his fingers and he took a few steps back, looking at the carnage around him, bodies littering his vision. He’d just done all this… without even stopping to think he’d taken the lives of 15 people just because they were in his way. This was exactly the kind of thing he’d run away from, tried to escape being a human weapon but no matter what he did he seemed to fall right back into that category. Mindless human weapon… Where had he gone wrong? What had he done to fall so low?

A low groan from the corner of the room drew his battered mind back into the present. He jogged over to where Kayla lay, her face screwed up in pain as she surfaced from unconsciousness, kneeling beside her and waiting for her to open her eyes.

“What…” she croaked, raising a hand to her head and feeling the warm stickiness of blood. “What happened?” Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.

“You got knocked out.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” she muttered painfully, lifting herself up on one elbow. “Did we get them?”

Bucky paused before answering, his eyes glancing down to the long cut across his stomach, the blood seeping out of it barely visible against his black shirt, the pain twinging in his mind as he finally registered it was there.

“Yeah.” He slipped a hand under her arm, helping her to her feet and holding her steady as she swayed slightly.

“Jesus….” Kayla looked around at the bodies around them. “You don’t fuck around.” Unease rose in her gut as she took the grisly scene in. Whatever she could do, this guy was on a whole other level, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to reach it. What sacrifices had he made to become this… this weaponised being?

“Come on, let’s get the stuff and get out of here,” she muttered, moving away from him towards the cases of weapons. She tried not to think about anything but the situation at hand as she keyed in the codes to open the cases, but found her mind was unable to let go of the bitter unease rolling around her stomach. Swallowing, she tried not to pay attention to the images flashing in her head, just behind her eyes, memories of shadows she tried to forget but could never seem to banish that followed her like dead weights on her mind. Her hand tightened around a gun, clutching it like a life-raft as she squeezed her eyes shut, red dots flecking the darkness as she tried to push the memories away, angry tears burning the insides of her eyelids as she forced herself back to the present.

Bucky lifted a few guns out of the broken cases and pocketed as many ammo clips, grenades and smoke bombs as he could, the methodical tasks helping to lift his mind from the strained silence between the two of them. He’d seen the fear flicker in Kayla’s eyes as she woke, seeing his bloodied face looking down at her and the quiet chaos of the bodies around her, and it had cut through him deeper than he thought possible. He felt vulnerable, open, exposed like he’d been sliced open from the inside out, the silence pressing against the wound and making it sting inside his mind. How much longer could he live like this, nothing but a broken, empty being filled with rage and fear…

The sound of smashing glass broke through his thoughts and he spun around, seeing Kayla removing her elbow from a broken case. Blood trickled down her skin from several shallow cuts but she didn’t seem to notice as she lifted two long, angular shapes from their holdings, whatever weapons they were hidden underneath folds of black cloth. She turned and he caught sight of her face, taken aback by how cold and bitter her expression was. He looked away before she saw him staring. Something about the scene had obviously woken something within her, something that seemed familiar to him. He searched his mind before the realisation hit him like an icy bucket of water. It was the same expression she’d worn when he asked her about her past, the mission that had seen her removal from the army.

“Come on,” came the grim voice from behind him, making his head jerk up. “We gotta go.” He turned around, not looking at her as he stepped away from the case and over the bodies in front of it, pain shooting dully into his gut as his wound pulled open.

Kayla turned, her heart weighing heavy against her lungs as she walked towards the door, hearing Barnes following her a few steps behind. Neither one speaking, the two began walking down the corridor towards the elevator as if nothing had happened, except their legs seemed stiff and they suddenly, inexplicably, found it heavier and harder to breathe.


	6. The Name History Wrote

The flight to Zurich passed in silence, Kayla staring listlessly out of the window, Bucky watching the ceiling with detached eyes, tears ghosting across his vision whenever he blinked. Something inside him had shifted from that last fight, something buried under layers of Hydra brainwashing and ice deep within him, and he couldn’t tell what about him was real anymore. The stability he seemed to have gained since Rome, the ability to talk and listen without his mind clouding over with confusion after the first few sentences, had left and he was left with nothing but empty questions again. His jaw tightened and he ground the heel of his palm against his eyes, the skin coming away wet with the moisture on his cheeks. He just wanted to say…. Something. Anything to distract himself from the whirlwind of emotion inside him. He just wanted a friend, a confidant, a companion. Another voice besides his own and the echoes of Pierce inside his head, to fill the gap that was growing the more he remembered about his past.

He wanted to see New York again. But more than anything, he wanted to see something or someone he recognised, but he knew the guilt that would come from that would tear him apart. Closing his eyes, a tear slipped out the corner of his eye, the surrounding silence suffocating him with its scream of nothingness.

Why wasn’t she saying anything?

Bucky shifted his head slightly to catch a glimpse of Kayla’s form, her face turned away from him, but he could see the reflection of the dimmed lights inside the plane reflecting on her open eyes that stared blankly at the dark sky outside the window. Was it the fear of what he really was, what he could do, that kept her awake? No, he didn’t think it was that. He knew the silence of fear, and this wasn’t it. It was the silence that came with being lost inside your thoughts, unable to see reality at all through the fog inside your mind. Unable or unwilling to, he didn’t know. But then again, if he didn’t open up to her he couldn’t really expect her to do the same, so he turned away from her, trying to cast all thoughts from his mind as he began drifting off to sleep, detaching from reality and lulled to sleep by the low hum of the plane’s engines.

 

***

 

The city shone like something out of a dream, high steeples cast in jade green glows rising through the low buildings with slightly curled up roofs, the inky blackness of their tiles barely showing against the velvet, midnight blue sky. As far as cities went, it was one of the most beautiful he’d seen, Bucky thought as he stepped out of the airport, icy air passing through his lungs and searing him with cool freshness.

“We need to get to the safe house,” Kayla said, making him tense slightly in surprise as she stood beside him, her tired eyes ringed with deep purple shadows searching for a taxi. “I need to contact Fury as soon as possible and try and sort out this mess.” Her words were bitter, terse, and they cut through Bucky like a knife.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded. It felt like his mouth had forgotten how to form words. At least they would be safe here, away from the reach of Draconis in a SHIELD safe house, and he began feeling a little better as he helped lift their small bags of weaponry into the boot of a taxi, like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. But only slightly.

Kayla slid into the back seat of the taxi, telling the driver the address of the safe house before sitting back, her eyes automatically staring out of the window again as Barnes climbed in next to her. She didn’t know why she was feeling like this again, it was like everything she’d worked to overcome and deal with since the incident had broken through her barriers at the sight of the carnage around her when she woke up. She knew she had to tell Barnes what was going on, if not to protect herself if she froze during their next mission, but because they were sort of working together now. He probably wasn’t even worried, she doubted he’d even noticed, but still… She almost wanted to tell him, but the mere thought of saying the words made her mind swallow itself up in fear.

Lights flashed past them as they drove across the river, the city opening up in a fantastic array of lights and water before vanishing behind buildings again as they wound their way through narrow roads deeper into the stomach of the city. Finally, they stopped outside an unassuming, wide building that stood on the corner of two quiet and cobbled streets, Kayla opening the door as soon as the taxi stopped and pressing euro notes into the hand of the driver.

Bucky held the bags as she slid a key into the peeling green door, following her down the narrow alley to the courtyard inside the building. Every window was dark, no movement shaking the barely visible curtains, and he wondered if anyone lived here. If they did, did they know they lived right next to a safe house that sheltered assassins and agents?

Kayla pressed her thumb against the small grey pad next to the door of the safe house and breathed a small sigh of relief as she heard the locks slide back automatically. Part of her had been worried Fury had erased her prints after he heard about what happened in Prague, but obviously not. Maybe he hadn’t heard about it yet, she hoped emptily as she pushed the door open and turned around to catch Barnes’ eye, motioning for him to follow.

The air inside was cool, fresh, the complete opposite to the musty stuffiness of the hotel room in Rome where they’d first taken shelter together, and the two of them pushed through the darkness before the lights began to switch on automatically. It was simply decorated in light greys and blacks and nothing was there that didn’t have to be, and Bucky found it comforting in its quiet efficiency. He placed the bags carefully on the thick carpet as Kayla began busying herself with menial things, closing the curtains, opening the fridge to look inside and booting up the laptop that was lying ready and waiting on the glass coffee table in the middle of the seating area. Slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly side by side next to the door, Bucky trod slowly across the room, as if moving too quickly would shatter the feeling lying over the place. It almost felt familiar, the lights making the pale carpet and sofas glow a soft yellow, the clean air pressing against his senses as he breathed in deeply, it was nothing like he had been used to for so long. It felt like a home.

As he moved further into the room, he saw that the kitchen led into the sitting room through an archway and a wide, square, counter cutting through the wall with two chairs beside it. Did Fury know both of them were coming here? His mouth twitched upwards slightly at the thought, it felt nice to think he was expected in a place like this. On the other side of the wide room, he could see a narrow corridor leading down to what he assumed was the sleeping area.

“I’m going out to get food,” Kayla announced, making him jump for the second time that evening.

“Ok,” he replied, his voice stiff and rusty.

She held his gaze for a moment longer than normal before dropping her eyes and moving quickly towards the door, grabbing her bag from the floor beside it and walking out into the night. As she emerged into the courtyard she blinked, her mind starting to surface from its shadowy prison in the cool evening air and she turned her face up to the blackened sky, her expression softening and the tension that had been held in it for hours beginning to leave her. Now they had made it here, she was finally starting to feel safe.

 

The streets were quiet as she walked down them towards the distant glow from the convenience store, the pale white light spilling out across the cobbles and reflecting in the rivulets of water between them like a luminescent spider’s web. It was peaceful against her mind, and Kayla finally started to think. Something had changed, shifted, inside her, and she knew she had to do something. When she first took this mission she just wanted back in the game, but now… she didn’t know.

Absent mindedly picking up a basket and moving around the tiny shop, Kayla did something she hadn’t done for a long time. She dug down inside her mind and thought about what she wanted to do, what she really wanted to, not what she felt like she had to. She wanted to be free, that much she knew, but free from what? At first it was free from prison, but it felt more and more like the farther away she ran, dodging responsibility and blame with sharp remarks and clever tactics, the more the noose was tightening around her neck. This wasn’t the freedom she wanted. She wanted to have what Barnes had, even if he didn’t know it. She wanted a second chance, a chance to reinvent herself, the ability to look back on what happened and what she did with eyes unclouded by ties to shadowy agencies and guilt. She’d been living with guilt hanging over her every move for years, and for the first time she was starting to feel tired.

A smile crept over her face as she tossed a packet of dried pasta and a jar of sauce into the basket, not even watching what she was doing. Cracks were starting to appear all over her and, even though she didn’t know and couldn’t see it, her old self was starting to show. The person she was before all this happened, before everything with SHIELD and the army, before the guilt and the madness and anger and blood, back to before she was Kayla and when she was....

Her thoughts trailed off, the smile leaving her face. She placed her now full basket on the counter and handed over a few crumpled euro notes, starting to resurface from the maze of her thoughts. Barnes… she had to tell him. She had to tell someone, it didn’t matter who, but he was there and he might understand better than anyone.

“Thanks,” she muttered, picked up her bags and walked out back into the night.

Why did she care if he understood? Why did she care what he thought of her at all? Her face felt hot and she hunched her shoulders up against the cold air pressing on her skin and hurried down the streets as if she could leave the questions on the cobbles behind her. Why did she care so much… He was just a mission, an asset, a means to an end, he meant nothing to her except in what he could do for her. Except he looked really great when he almost smiled when they were trapped in the closet on the train, a million and one years ago. And he had saved her life in the air vents, and she had saved him from being beaten to a pulp in the cache, and he had agreed to trust her without knowing anything about her, simply because she’d asked him to and offered to help him. And she did want to, she honestly and truly did. She wanted to help bring him back to the surface, because without even knowing it he’d sort of done the same for her. After all, she wouldn’t even be out of prison at all if it wasn’t for him.

A loud, angry sigh huffed past her lips and curled into mist in the velvet black air in front of her. This was ridiculous; she shouldn’t even be thinking about him this much. She felt like she should protect him, yes, but he was her asset now, so that was natural, right? Underneath all her desperate rationalising and reasoning, Kayla knew why she cared so much. She just didn’t want to admit to herself that she could even feel that way about another person again.

 

Loud fanfares of trumpets and violins seeped through the door of the safe house as she entered the courtyard, barely audible against the distant rush of city noise, but as she drew closer Kayla could hear the music a little clearer. It sounded like that old style of music from the 40s or 50s, and she opened the door as quietly as possible, the music blasting through the space and curling around her ears with its slow, ambling beat. Closing the door behind her, she set the bags down on the carpet and removed her shoes before padding silently into the living room, leaning on the wall in the cover of shadow and watching the scene before her with amused, surprised eyes.

Barnes stood in the centre of the room, swaying with an invisible partner in smooth, practised moves to the music blasting out of the laptop. He must have found the radio feature, Kayla thought quietly, as she watched him dance slowly, stiffly, almost like his mind remembered some of the movements but kept forgetting mid-step. Watching him like this… It made her remember just how old he was, what time he really came from. Man out of time, dancing around the living room with his eyes closed, and she wondered where he was. Maybe back in a 1940s club, dancing with a sweet girl before he left for the war he’d never truly return from. Or maybe he was just trying to experience what it was like again, try to reach back into the past and grab a piece of it to bring back into his harsh present.

He was a good dancer. A wide smile slid unconsciously across Kayla’s face as he held out his arm as if his phantom partner was twirling gracefully, skirt opening out around her like a flower’s petals. She almost wanted to join him, try and slip into a peaceful, serene time with him borne by music and the lights’ soft glow. She stepped into the room a little more and her shoulder brushed against the wall, the sudden sound making Barnes’ eyes snap open and he saw her standing half in shadow beside the door.

The two of them stared at each other for a while, Bucky’s eyes holding hers but without the challenge or intensity they normally had, instead with the soft gaze of a man half-dreaming, lost in another place and another time.

“Sorry, I…” Kayla began, her voice sounding offensively loud and harsh against the soft crooning song and lilting violins. She swallowed awkwardly, unable to take her eyes away from his face. He seemed so different, gentler, the hard lines around his mouth and eyes gone and making him seem younger, softer. She wondered dimly if this is what he looked like before the war, before Hydra took him. Before he was the Winter Soldier, back when he was Bucky Barnes.

He didn’t reply, just watched her. He didn’t know why he did what he did next, but he didn’t give himself long enough to think about it, just held out his hand to catch her’s and pull her gently into the room with him.

“Have you ever danced?” he asked her, his voice barely above a whisper, sounding almost like he was speaking out of a dream.

She shook her head, her smile widening. “Not like this. Dancing has kind of moved on from the 40s,” she replied, acutely aware of the roughness of his fingertips against her palm.

When he dropped his head and a smile twitched the corners of his mouth, she knew he must be lost in memories. Either that, or he’d completely overcome Hydra’s spell, and she hoped it was the latter.

“It’s easy,” he said, raising his chin to look her in the face again. Gently, hesitantly, giving her enough time to push him away, he released her hand carefully placed his right hand on her waist, his metal hand coming up to curl around her fingers gently as if he was afraid he would break them. The space between them narrowed as he stepped closer to her, and began to slowly guide her around the room in rhythmic, hypnotising circles.

None of this felt real, Bucky thought as they danced hesitant, fumbling steps, but he wanted it to be. It almost felt like old times that he couldn’t remember, times spent in dimly lit rooms, cloudy with cigarette smoke that was swirled around the air by the dancers. He watched Kayla as she dropped her face to glance down at the ground, laughing slightly as her feet fumbled against his. Maybe if they were in another place, and weren’t both trained killers, he probably would have asked her to dance a long time ago. He stretched out his left arm and let her spin before catching her waist again, almost not wanting the space between them to grow. He just wanted to stay like this, his mind calm and angry confusion muffled against the soothing music, with his arms around Kayla who was smiling like she meant it, no hidden agenda or snide comment behind her expression. It made her look pretty, and he suddenly grew aware that this was the first time he’d seen her face clearly in perfect focus since they met. He’d never been this close to her before, and his eyes moved over her face as they revolved slowly around the room. She had a series of tiny scars barely visible on her left cheek, just under her eye, almost like she’d been cut at high speed by lots of small shards. Her hair across her forehead fell to one side slightly, and he caught sight of another, slightly longer scar shining against her skin below her hairline. How had she got them?

As his eyes caught hers again, he stopped thinking about it. He had plenty of scars he didn’t like to think about, so it felt rude to ruin this moment by wondering about hers, and he just let himself sink back into enjoying the moment again as the song began to draw to a close, and he found, once again, that he didn’t want this moment to end as the music swelled then faded to silence, leaving them both standing back where they started and feeling like they’d just emerged from a dream.

Kayla looked up at Barnes, her nose barely inches from his, her eyes wide and mind crackling with electricity. His breath fanned over her face, making her more aware of how close he was, knowing that if she leaned forwards just slightly she could-

“I have to tell you something,” she said, her words coming out just above a whisper, but still snapping the moment as harshly as if she had screamed them.

He blinked, drawing back slightly as her words reached his ears. “Ok.”

Unfolding her hand from within his and already missing the warmth, she stepped back and reached into her pocket, bringing out a small memory stick she’d been carrying around since they left the airport. Walking around him awkwardly, she slipped it into the laptop on the coffee table and stood back as she heard the small beep of it connecting. She didn’t want to see what was on there. She’d already lived through it enough times in her head to last an eternity.

A small line appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows as he moved to sit on the couch. “What is it?” he asked, glancing up at her, but she avoided his eyes.

She took in a deep breath before answering. “Me,” she replied, the word rushing out of her. “Everything you could ever possibly want to know about me.” She glanced at him, eyes wide and apprehension covering her face. “I know everything about you, Barnes. And you’ve proved that I can trust you, so I think it’s only fair for me to…” she searched for the right words. “Extend you the same courtesy,” she finished.

He looked down at the screen, hardly able to process what she was saying to him. She trusted him? Nobody trusted him… A window had opened on the screen, containing only one folder marked “CG0310”. As he heard movement, his eyes darted up to see her walking towards the bedroom the other end of the hall.

“I can’t be here when you read it,” she said quietly, not looking at him as she paused by the archway leading away from the living room. “Sorry.”

Before Bucky could reply she had vanished into the shadows, and he turned his eyes downwards to the screen again, moving the cursor slowly towards the folder, almost terrified of what he might find hidden there.

 

_Execute order: open file_

_File registered to Fury, Nicholas J. Enter authorisation code_

 

Bucky’s fingers flexed nervously. What would the code be? Sighing, he leaned back and stared at the memory stick. Wait… what was that? A few numbers had been carved crudely into the side of it, and he hastily typed them in.

 

_Code accepted. Please choose file from list of options:_

_Personal_

_Mission reports_

_Medical_

 

_Select: “Personal”_

_Please wait while the file is loaded. It may take a few minutes._

_File loaded._

_Name: Caitlyn Greene_

_Codename: Red Blade_

_Known Aliases: 13 total (see attached files for details on each)_

_Last known alias used: Kayla Farin_

_Activity status: Inactive_

 

Caitlyn Greene… So her real name wasn’t Kayla. He should have suspected that much, but the name felt strange in his head as he tried to attach it to her face. He moved the cursor towards the photo icon next to her name and clicked.

 

_Most recent photo file taken during arrest before asset was declared inactive_

 

He barely recognised her. The Kayla, no, Caitlyn, he knew was all sharp edges, eyes almost constantly shadowed by purple lines of sleeplessness and mouth turned up in a smirk. The girl in the picture looked no older than 25, closer to 20, her face soft and watery eyes staring blankly into the camera, her mouth downturned in a grim line. She didn’t look sad, she looked incredibly, incandescently angry as her dark eyes burned through the screen into his. With her hair tangled and tied messily up behind her head, she looked wild, dangerous, insane. Is this what he looked like to other people?

Underneath the picture there was a link reading “Details of arrest”, and Bucky clicked it hastily. He had to find out what happened to her, why a SHIELD asset had been arrested publically.

A page popped up in front of the picture and Bucky’s eyes scanned across it.

 

_Report by: Fury, Nicholas J._

_As of 11.04 am today (29/04/12), SHIELD asset Caitlyn “Red Blade” Greene has been placed under permanent arrest, to be taken to Naval Consolidated Brig, Miramar, CA. Due to the public nature of this arrest, it is important to maintain that the cover that she is a former military personnel, and therefore can remain under their custody._

_SHIELD shadows within the facility will ensure she is not put to death while there is a possibility she can be used again._

 

Well that told him how she was arrested, but not why. Bucky’s brow furrowed as he dug deeper into the files, searching relentlessly for answers. Finally he found a folder labelled “Last Mission”.

 

_Last mission status: Failed_

_Location: Chicago_

_Details: Asset failed to eliminate the target (Senator Sam Stern, suspected of backhand dealings with another agency or government) during his visit to the city, was knocked unconscious by Sen. Stern’s bodyguards and taken into custody._

_In order to hide SHIELD’s involvement with the mission, the decision was made by the Security Council and Colonel Fury to allow her to be detained to maintain SHIELD’s cover._

 

So that was it. She trusted them and they stabbed her in the back. SHIELD was starting to sound more and more like Hydra with each opened file. He closed the windows about her arrest, lingering a moment over her photograph before closing that too, and moved to the next section: Mission reports. He scrolled down the page, skimming over the details of each one. She’d taken a lot of missions for SHIELD, and he suspected it was more of a formality that she was labelled asset, not agent. After all, SHIELD didn’t want to be associated with an assassin, even if they were the ones that trained her. She was just a weapon to be used by them, he could sympathise.

His eyebrows rose as he took in how many successful kills she’d done. At last count, he had carried out about 25 kills in 50 years, the number kept low so Hydra could hide their presence within SHIELD. Kayla’s (dammit, what should he call her?) last count was 20 in the four years she was listed as Active. Impressive given she mostly worked alone. But it looked like her MO was to sneak in, kill the target and sneak out before anyone could even notice she was there. He scanned over the skills section: knife throwing, close quarters attacks, shadowing, hand-to-hand combat, her gun skills were listed as average but she knew how to hit a target, basically all the skills that were needed for an invasive killer.

A mission labelled “Rome – 15/08/2011” caught his eye and he opened it. The famous Rome mission, the one where she’d been captured by Draconis for the first time. He found barely any information about it, almost like it had been wiped clean. A few seconds after he opened it a window popped up, requesting a security code, and when the one he’d used before didn’t work it closed the file and took him back to the mission reports. Weird… What had happened that SHIELD didn’t want found?

His curiousity about the Rome mission was quelled as he reached the bottom of the page and saw a tab labelled “Last Military Operation – Private C. Greene”. The mission she couldn’t talk about, that she’d barely mentioned before and looked like she would kill him for asking about. He almost felt like he shouldn’t read it… But she’d given him the file, she knew what was on it. He had to know. Slowly, stiffly, he clicked the folder open and began reading.

 

_Mission status: Failed_

_Officers on mission: 5; Pr. Caitlyn Greene, Pr. Scott Charge, Sp. Amy Wilcox, Sp. Jonathon Cho, Corp. Zeke Felman_

_Officers deceased: 4_

_Officers returned: 1_

_Location: Dasht-e-Kavir desert, Iran_

_Details: Team set out after intercepting a message from enemy forces about a group of refugees stuck on road out of desert near rebel base. Authorised by senior officer to carry out small rescue mission. Message was not decoded properly and team was ambushed by rebel forces near minefield (listing 4582B)._

_Exact details are not known at this point due to the condition of the surviving officer._

 

That was it. Bucky scrolled down desperately, trying to find more about what happened, but the page was blank after the last entry which simply read:

_Private Caitlyn Greene has been removed from active duty due to diagnosis with PTSD. File to be archived._

He felt like his insides were freezing. It was all too much, to go so long without knowing who somebody really was so forming an opinion about them inside your own mind, just to be told everything you thought was wrong. They’d only known each other less than a week, but he was starting to feel like he knew her. Now he realised how wrong he was about everything. He figured she was just some quick-thinking SHIELD operative, good at what she did but that was it. Who he once thought was the aggressor was starting to look more like the victim, and he hated himself for thinking she might have deserved to be thrown in jail. He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees and hiding his face in his hands. At least he knew what was real, at least about her, but it was a small comfort. He knew her pain, he felt it every day and right now it was screaming inside his head, tearing his heart apart.

“Not nice, is it?”

Bucky’s head jerked up at the sound of Kayla’s voice from the side of the room. Her hair was wet and she was dressed in a vest top and shorts, the peppering of scars stretching down her leg to her knee on one side. Of course, he thought dimly, shrapnel from the mines.

“What happened?” he asked, his throat rusty and thick. He blinked and felt moisture clinging to his lashes.

She drew in a deep breath and came over to perch on the arm of the chair beside the couch, twisting her hands together in her lap as she studied the floor. She felt completely vulnerable, and she hated it. It felt like she was an open wound, and someone was standing over her with a handful of salt and she just had to trust that they wouldn’t fling it down on her.

“It was… a failed mission,” she began, not looking at him. “It was during my second tour. I intercepted a message between the rebels about some refugees stuck on some road, near some enemy bases. We were authorised to do a rescue mission, but… uh…” A small frown creased her brow and she licked her lips nervously. “It was a trap. The message was a hoax, and if it had been translated properly we would have known that.”

“Who translated it?” Bucky asked, his mouth feeling like ash.

She gave a short, harsh laugh that cut through the air before dying quickly. “I did.” Her eyes caught his, and he saw they were full of tears.

“It was my fault,” she continued, holding his gaze, before swallowing and looking away. “We went in, expecting to find a group of refugees, but instead we drove right into a group of about seven rebels waiting for us. Two of my teammates were shot before they could even get out of the car. The rest of us managed to hold cover for long enough to kill a few of them, until one of them…” Her voice broke and the first tears fell from her eyes, landing heavily on her clasped hands, Bucky’s heart splintering with them. “…threw a grenade towards the car.” She drove her palm into her eyes, wiping away the tears angrily and taking a couple of deep breaths before she could continue.

“The blast threw us backwards into the minefield. Charge was killed instantly, blow to fucking pieces…” The words spat out of her, and she pressed her lips together, the scene playing out before her eyes in perfect detail. “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a person step on a mine before, but he landed on about three, and bits of him went… everywhere…” Her face crumpled into a terrified grimace at the memory. “I didn’t know one person could hold so much blood inside them until it fell on me. I landed a few feet away and missed most of the mines, but one exploded beside my shoulder. I took shrapnel in my face, barely missing my eye, and my left side all the way down to my knee. I had to have three reconstructive surgeries.” She lapsed into silence for a moment, her eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of her.

“My commanding officer was next to me, a mine had blown his entire leg off, and there was nothing I could do but… watch him die… The rebels left, probably thinking we’d die without their help. I could see his leg lying across from me, so close I could almost reach out and touch it… Like I could just put it back on him and we’d go home…” Her sentences were becoming disjointed, broken. “It took him about half an hour to die, all his blood just pouring slowly out of him as I just lay there and watched… After he was gone I was alone for… God… it felt like years. I think the helicopters came in just before sunset, so must have been about 3 hours just lying there, cut into a million pieces by shrapnel with the bodies of my team mates all around me and knowing it was all. My. Fault.” She spat out the last words, her face creasing into anger and pain and guilt which burned her eyes and stabbed her stomach. “If I’d just got someone to check the message like we were supposed to, I would have seen it was a trick. We wouldn’t have gone in and five people wouldn’t be lying in some military graveyard somewhere.” Tears flows freely down her cheeks but she didn’t care anymore, just gulped in air as her throat began to close up.

“It was my fault, Bucky,” she whispered, her wide, stinging eyes turning to him and seeing him staring at her with the same expression of fear and immense sadness, the kind that can only be shown on faces, too deep to be put into words.

He didn’t say anything in reply. How could he? What words could he use to stitch up the void that had been torn inside her heart? He could only move to sit next to her and take her hand, but it was enough for the flood of emotion to wash over her completely, and she broke down into angry, wrenching sobs.

“It wasn’t your fault…” he whispered as her tears began to subside. “It just… It wasn’t because of you.” His words sounded so pathetic.

“I can’t…” she tried, her voice lost in the harsh chokes of the tears leaving her. She rubbed a hand over her face and stared intensely at him, emotion spilling from her eyes. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted sympathy,” she said, not unkindly. “I told you because I want you to understand that you’ve been given a second chance. When we get back to New York you can start your life again, but please don’t do the same thing I did. I thought that lashing out, burying what happened in darkness and letting it poison my life was ok… That it was what I deserved… But you can’t let it destroy you.” Her eyes were wide, pleading with him to understand. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I thought the payoff was the only thing that mattered, but it wasn’t freedom I was getting. It was just changing from one prison to another… I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get to New York, but I promise you…” She lifted her hand and held his chin between her fingers. “I will protect you. I’ve become a monster, there’s no changing that, but you…” She searched his face, her expression softening. “You could start again. You have to start again, Bucky.”

He dimly registered that she was calling him by his first name, the name he got before he was the Winter Soldier, and it felt like fire in his veins when he heard it. Heat was spreading across his face from where her fingers were touching him, and before he knew what he was doing, before his brain told him to stop, he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against hers.

Kayla’s mind froze as she felt the kiss throughout her entire being. She felt him pull away, her eyes wide with surprise and face still wet with tears, but she felt like pure sunshine was pouring through the cracks in her mind as she saw Bucky properly for the first time, not as a weapon, not as an asset, not as a broken shell discarded by Hydra, but as a person. A flesh and blood person, right beside her, holding her face gently between his hands. And she thought he was the most beautiful being in the world in that moment. A smile crept across her face and she leaned forwards again at the same time he did, their mouths meeting again, emotions and unspoken words caught in the kiss and expressed in the way his hand cupped the back of her head, how her fingers tangled in his long hair, the tightening of his fingers around her waist as he pulled her closer to him.

Kayla couldn’t help but feel like this was always going to happen as her body was pressed against his and it struck her how real this felt. She could almost feel his heartbeat in her chest, thumping in perfect unison with her own. Her heartbeat became his, the breath leaving his lungs flowed into hers, two broken pieces of minds fusing together to form a whole as their bodies moved together. The world hung in a perfect balance within that room, and for a single moment she truly believed everything was going to be alright, that the demons hiding in the shadows would stay in the shadows, that the past would remain as a memory and nothing more, and that nothing could hurt either of them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please do comment with any thoughts! The music they were dancing to was It's Been A Long Long Time by Henry James and his Orchestra, from the Cap 2 soundtrack.


	7. Shatter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one! I got writers block about halfway through so sorry if the middle bits are a tad rusty.

 

Kayla’s hands trailed through Bucky’s hair, her lips lifting away from his slightly as her head spun, either from a lack of air or the kiss, she couldn’t tell. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, mixing with the sound of his quick, faltering breaths. Letting his hair fall through her fingers like water, she leaned her forehead against his, eyes still stubbornly closed as if trying to preserve the feeling a little longer.

“Kay…” the name slipped from his mouth as easy as breathing, washing over her.

“What did you just call me?” she replied, a bubble of laughter breaking her words into fragments.

“Um…” Bucky opened his eyes a crack, peering into hers with bashful hesitancy. “Kay. I don’t know what I should call you…” he admitted.

She smiled wider. “Kay’s good. Kayla’s fine, Caitlyn’s fine, it’s all fine,” she whispered back, moving her head back a bit and settling down from the arm of the chair she was still perched on so she was crushed between his lap and the couch arm. “What should I call you?”

“Bucky,” he answered without thinking. “My name is Bucky,” he repeated, half to himself and half to her, and he actually believed it. He was Bucky, nothing else. He didn’t have to be anything else ever again. His hands tightened around her body again and he pulled her into a kiss, warmth spreading throughout his entire body as he felt her hands run down from his head to his neck, tracing down his collarbone to rest on his chest, her fingers pressing gentle points of pressure on his skin through his t-shirt. Although the fabric was thin, it felt inches thick and he realised he hated the barrier between them. He wanted to feel everything, everything he’d been missing for all those years he was blind and buried under layers of Hydra cruelty, and he wanted to share that feeling with her.

Kayla gasped into the kiss as she felt his cold metal fingers slip under her vest top, pressing into the groove of her spine and raising goosebumps all over her skin, but not from the coolness of his hand. Her hand balled into a fist, dragging the soft fabric of his shirt up slightly with the sudden movement and he moved back, hand slipping down her back, afraid he’d gone too far.

“Sorry, I-“

“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off, and reached back to place his hand back where it was. She opened her eyes and saw steel grey ones looking into hers. “It’s fine…” she repeated in a whisper and leaned down to trace the line of his jaw, rough with days of not shaving, with her lips, her breath against his skin making him shiver. She placed feather light kisses down his jawline and neck, resting her forehead against the hollow between his neck and shoulder as his fingers dug into her back, his other hand tightening around her thigh, dragging it closer to him as his hand ran up it to curl around her waist.

Kayla pressed her lips against his skin, catching the edge of where his metal arm met his shoulder and felt the muscles twitch under her mouth. Glancing up at him, she saw Bucky with his lips slightly open in a low gasp as he breathed heavily in and out, his hair tangled and falling across his forehead in disarray. God he looked so beautiful… She grinned and kissed him again, one hand running down his metal arm, fingers catching in the grooves, the other moving down his chest to hitch up the hem of his shirt. She wanted to rip it off him so badly she could almost taste it mingling with the saltiness of his skin on her lips, and her hand began lifting it up his body slightly, almost like she was afraid of what his reaction might be.

His reaction was to help her.

The air felt cold on Bucky’s burning skin, and he shivered, unconsciously tugging Kayla further into his lap as his fingers traced a path from her waist to her ribs, running lightly over the scar puckering her rib cage and he pulled back slightly, eyes scanning her face anxiously in case he’d hurt her. She met his eyes with gentle reassurance before a glint of wickedness rose in them, and she leaned in to kiss his neck slowly and deeply, a moan slipping from his lips as he felt her tongue rush over his skin. She laughed against his neck as he pulled her vest over her head in revenge, his mouth eagerly catching her neck and tracing all the way down her collarbone towards her breasts.

“Do you want to…” she began, her throat dry and words cutting off with a gasp as she felt his mouth move lower with agonising slowness. “Move somewhere else?”

“Yes,” he replied, lips skimming her skin as he spoke.

 

Time seemed to speed up into a whirlwind of movement as Kayla drew Bucky to his feet, the heat emanating from their bare skin only serving to bring them closer together as if the air between them was fusing together. They clumsily made their way towards the hallway, sharing hasty kisses and hands eagerly running over skin, legs bumping against each other and elbows knocking against furniture and walls. They missed the hallway entrance by inches but didn’t seem to care, Kayla’s back pressed against the wall as Bucky kissed her deeply, the cold plaster on her skin making her shiver and crush her body against his even more, her arms winding around his neck and supporting her weight as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

His hands ran up her thighs and held her tightly, safely, in his arms as he broke the kiss to lean his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. He hadn’t felt like this in so long, must have been 70 years… The night before he left for the war? He brushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact Kayla was kissing his neck again, and it felt amazing. He moaned and began moving towards the bedroom again, knowing he couldn’t wait any longer, and by the way she was pressing her lips against his skin, neither could she.

Kayla felt herself being tipped over, her back meeting the soft, cushioning mattress as Bucky let her go, and she sat up again, hands already undoing his belt and letting him slide down her shorts at the same time.

“Wait…” He caught her hands in his and stared at her. “You sure you’re ok with this?”

It felt like her heart would burst with warmth as she smiled into his eyes, her hand resting on the back of his head again as she leaned in to answer him with a tender, lingering kiss. “Yes,” she breathed as they broke apart. “Are you?”

“Oh God, yes,” he replied, a low groan in his voice.

Kayla’s smile grew and she pulled him closer, the final button on his trousers undoing and the remaining fabric hiding him from her pooling around his feet. She wasn’t scared as he pulled her shorts down, leaving her completely exposed to him. She didn’t feel any shame or embarrassment when he ran his hands over her body, lips pressed against her neck as she wound her arms around his neck, lying back into the bed and letting herself sink into it. Even when he lifted himself to drink in the sight of her stretched out in front of him, she didn’t feel anything apart from blissful peace and longing for the man in front of her, she wanted him to see her, all of her, and she wanted to see all of him.

Bucky leaned down again and kissed her softly, running his hands down her waist and hips. Her skin felt like silk against his fingertips, tiny goosebumps springing up at his touch. He broke the kiss to lean his forehead against hers and smile at her, not wanting to open his eyes yet.

“Bucky…”

The sound of Kayla’s soft voice made his eyes open, and he saw her smiling up at him. She moved her hips slightly to bring herself closer to him. “I’m really glad I showed you that file,” she told him, a slight laugh in her voice.

“Me too, Kay,” he replied, kissing her lips before moving to her neck, the hollow of her throat, her breasts, her stomach, everywhere and anywhere he wanted to and she wanted him to, because she was warm and alive and so real she made the nightmare of the past years slip away with every touch, their heartbeats mixing together and filling the holes in his mind with warmth and light. And all he wanted to do was to share that feeling with her, to make her feel like he did in that moment. Completely whole.

 

***

Sunlight kissed Kayla’s sleeping face, her fingers curling tighter around the metal ones holding them as her mind began to emerge from the depths of peaceful, exhausted sleep. Her eyes opened a crack, blinking a few times as the events from the night before flooded her brain, and a drowsy smile crept across her face. Bucky was lying behind her, his body pressed against hers and left arm resting over her shoulder protectively, and she leaned back into him slightly, her eyes closing again as his fingers squeezed hers tighter. She needed to get up… A frown creased her face as she remembered she had to contact Fury. Slowly, carefully, she slid out from under his arm and padded across the carpet, picking up her vest and shorts from the floor as she walked and slipping them on.

The phone was set into the wall of the kitchen, and Kayla dug the number given to her by Fury before she left out of her bag, keying it quickly into the handset and wedging it between her ear and shoulder as she opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk. As the dialling sequence buzzed in her ear she took a glass out of the cabinet and poured the liquid into it, waiting patiently for the phone to start ringing.

“Report,” Fury’s stern voice snapped at her down the line.

 “At the safe house,” Kayla replied quietly, not wanting to wake Bucky. She took a quick gulp of milk and made a face. She hated waking up early, and the clock on the wall said it was 7am. Practically still night time.

“Did you run into any trouble?”

“A bit…” she said reluctantly, leaning against the counter.

“I’d call a body count of over 20 more than “a bit”.” His tone indicated that he wasn’t in the least bit impressed with her.

She winced. So he’d heard about that. “Yeah, we ran into a few old friends…”

“Who?”

“You remember the Draconis?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She placed the glass down on the counter and ran her hand over her face. “We need to get to New York, there’s been a few developments that we didn’t anticipate.” The sound of movement from the bedroom made her glance around guiltily. She had to tell Fury about the conversation she overheard before Bucky woke up.

“Like what?”

“Something about codes… I don’t know what for, but they wanted me alive in order to get them.” Her words were met with silence. “Fury?”

“There’s a flight at 1500 hours to New York,” he replied, his words sharp, clipped, urgent. “Get on it, I’ll have someone meet you at the airport.”

The line cut out. Kayla lowered the phone and stared at it. Whatever these codes were, Fury obviously knew something about it. So why was he hiding it from her? More importantly, why couldn’t she remember anything about them? She’d been held by the Draconis for three weeks, an experience she wasn’t likely to forget, but she couldn’t think of anything that might link to any codes… What was going on?

“Kay?”

The sound of Bucky’s croaky morning voice from behind her made her spin around, holding the phone guiltily in her hand as she smiled at him, clad only in boxer shorts and his hair pulled back into a messy half-ponytail.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she replied a little breathily, placing the phone back on the wall.

His eyes darted to it, before settling back on her face again. “Fury?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We have a flight at 3. You want some milk?”

He twitched slightly, his face wrinkling. “Uh… No. Thanks.” He perched on one of the counter chairs and watched her walk out of the kitchen, smiling slightly as she leaned down to kiss his neck quickly before slumping down on the sofa.

“So…” Kayla put her feet up on the coffee table and kicked them together awkwardly. “Last night was fun.” She looked slyly over to him and grinned.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up as he caught her eyes, the two of them smiling smugly to each other like a pair of teenagers. “Yeah. It was.”

A moderately awkward silence fell between them. Bucky shifted off his seat and opened the fridge, very aware of the woman behind him, even though she wasn’t looking at him. Tapping his fingers along the shelves, he searched for something to eat.

“How long had it been?”

He turned, his mouth full of a weird, twisted pastry he’d found, eyebrows raised in questioning as Kayla spoke.

She gave him a mischievous sideways glance, her mouth pinched into a teasing smirk. “Since you last had sex?”

Bucky coughed, swallowing a huge chunk of barely chewed pastry and inhaling a few crumbs as he did. “Uh…” He had no idea what to say. His eyes watered as he thumped on his chest, trying to dislodge the crumbs sticking inside his throat. “I don’t know?” he croaked.

Kayla shrugged. “It’s just interesting. I mean, it must have been at least 50 years, right?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course not. I’m just thinkin’… Can virginity grow back?”

Bucky stared at her for a few minutes, his face almost dismayed at how idiotic she sounded, before her shoulders began shaking and laughter erupted from her mouth. “You’re an idiot,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Actually I have an IQ of 129,” she hiccupped, her laugh fading into giggles. She heaved a sigh, leaning her head back and tapping her feet together again. “We have about 4 hours before we have to leave for the flight,” she muttered.

Bucky crashed down into the armchair, still munching his breakfast and nodded. “Yep.”

 Kayla rolled her head to the side to stare at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “What _will_ we do to fill the time?” she sighed, eyebrows raised as if she didn’t already know the answer.

Bucky caught her gaze and twitched up one corner of his mouth. “I have a couple of ideas.”

 

***

They were halfway across the Atlantic when the guilt hit Bucky like a freight train. He was drifting off to sleep, the cabin almost completely devoid of light, Kayla quietly snoozing on his left shoulder, her headphones slipping off her ears haphazardly, when without warning his mind was flooded with an icy, bitter cascade of dark emotion, making his insides jolt and shrivel away from the chill. His eyes snapped open, seeing only the blank wall of the plane beside him, desperately seeking something to distract himself from the feeling but finding nothing but the images in his own mind. Hands clenching in his lap, his teeth ground together as he fought the guilt pressing against his mind, tears burning against his eyes as he wildly searched for a reason why he was feeling like this.

Happiness. He was guilty because he was happy.

He was a ruthless, heartless monster, his mind a twisted and broken mess of barbed wire and ice, he wasn’t allowed to be happy. He wasn’t allowed to be with someone, to share joy with that person. He wasn’t allowed, it was forbidden. The words tore his mind apart as they sank deeper and deeper into his soul, images of his past crimes playing out mercilessly in front of his eyes, squeezed shut in a vain attempt to block the images out. Tears ran down his face as his face screwed up in pain. How could he be so stupid? To think he was allowed to do this, any of this? To run around with an ex-SHIELD operative, acting like he was fighting the good fight as if it would wipe out the biting darkness of his past… He was such an idiot. He didn’t deserve happiness. How could he? Monsters like him could never live in the light, they belonged in the dark.

As the plane soared on through the night, Bucky slowly lost the battle against the shadows in his mind, exhaustion wining out as he let himself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, tears streaming silently down his face and filling his mouth with their bitter, salty taste. All he could do was sit there and let the guilt crush him, Kayla oblivious beside him as his mind swallowed itself in darkness.

 

Kayla woke up with a jolt and a slight, undignified, snort. Her headphones fell around her neck as she jerked up, looking around as if she couldn’t quite remember where she was. Her arm was stuck under something… Oh, it was Bucky’s arm, but she couldn’t be bothered to move it so she laid her head back down, already drifting off again. A strand of newly-dyed hair fell over her eyes and she focused on it lazily. Before they’d left the safe house she’d trimmed her hair by about 2 inches, shortening it to just below chin length and coloured it black, and had finally managed to get Bucky to sit down and let her cut his hair as well. It was way too conspicuous the way it was, but he’d only let her cut a few inches off before he pushed the scissors away and stomped off into the bathroom, his face set into a scowl. Oh well, at least it looked marginally better than the messy hobo hair he’d been parading around with before, and she’d managed to persuade him to trim down his scraggly two week-old beard off as well. The last thing they needed was to get stopped at security because he looked like he’d been dumpster diving for the past month.

She shifted uncomfortably as the 3 hours of sitting completely still began to wear on her muscles. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept drifting to the single question still weighing on her mind: What were the codes? She wriggled upright, her mind now wide awake as the thought rolled around her mind. Fury probably wouldn’t tell her even if she asked, and she didn’t want to run the risk of not knowing. Carefully, she reached into her hand luggage and drew out the laptop from the apartment and fished the memory stick out of her pocket with all her files on it. Clearly the codes were to do with her, Draconis hadn’t given the order to keep her alive just because they liked her, so maybe she would find some answers buried in her file.

As the laptop booted up, Kayla glanced sideways at Bucky, hoping the dim glow from the screen wouldn’t wake him. At least she assumed he was asleep, he was completely motionless but his head was turned away from her so she couldn’t be sure. He’d been acting differently since the night before, almost like a real person. A smile crept across her face as she wondered if that was how he was before Hydra got their claws into him.

The computer in front of her loaded and she dragged her mind away from Bucky and towards the mystery at hand. “Draconis mission… Draconis mission…” she muttered as she slotted the memory stick into the laptop and began scrolling through the files. Finding it, she clicked it open and was greeted with the message:

 

Please enter authorisation code

 

Authorisation code? She was fully authorised for all these files, they were about her for God’s sake… A frown creased her brow as she tapped in a command that would open up the coding for the file. Time to try a backdoor approach… She snorted as the innuendo popped into her mind. Typing furiously, she dug through the codes, entering various commands to try and open the file without the password. She was rewarded after a few minutes of hacking, the file springing open in a new window.

 

Mission status: Successful

Location: Rome, Italy, Unknown location, Russia area (estimated)

 

Ukraine? This was presenting more mysteries than it was solving, Kayla had never been to Russia for a mission. Russia and the surrounding area was off limits to her, SHIELD preferred to use Black Widow for those missions. At least that was what she had been told… Kayla’s eyes narrowed as she dug into the file further.

 

Details (incomplete, needs clarification from Alpha level): Operative deployed to Rome to eliminate target of Esteban Giglio, and to infiltrate Draconis base in order to locate asset: Doctor Valentina. Operative was captured in the process and was held for 2 months within the Draconis base.

 

It felt like the inside of her mouth was turning to ash as she read. 2 months? She was there for 3 weeks, tops, and she’d never run into a Doctor Valentina. Was everything she’d been told about this mission a lie? And why couldn’t she remember anything about it? She scrolled further down the page, searching for answers but before she could read any more the file closed itself automatically, the screen turning black before flickering to life again with the simple message displayed on its surface:

 

No password entered. Mission log for “Rome, 2011” has been deleted.

 

“Fuck!” The word hissed out from Kayla’s mouth and she ran her hands through her hair. What the hell was Fury playing at? When they got back to New York he would have hell to pay, he could be sure of that. If there’s one thing she couldn’t stand, it was being betrayed, and Fury had done that to her twice now. It was time they learnt his mistake.

 

***

 

“We are beginning our descent into LaGuardia airport, would all cabin crew please take their seats for landing.”

Kayla jolted out of her trance at the sound of the announcement, pulling her headphones off and shutting the computer down. She’d been searching through all the files contained on the memory stick and also the SHIELD introduction and orientation manuals on the laptop itself, and aside from learning where the top restaurants were in Zurich, she hadn’t found anything of use. She growled out a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she hunched over, stretching out her arms before clipping her seatbelt on and putting her tray table up.

“Excuse me, would you mind waking your friend up and letting him know we’re landing, please?” A stewardess leaned over to talk to her quietly, a sweet smile on her face.

“Yeah, sure,” Kayla said, her voice sounding like death after so many hours of not using it. As the stewardess nodded her thanks and began to walk away, Kayla wondered if part of the woman’s training was “how to keep your hair and outfit perfect on an 8 hour flight”. She probably aced it. Now there was a valuable skill, knowing how to eviscerate someone in a matter of seconds was one thing, knowing how to look perfect 24/7 was in a whole other league.

“Hey, Bucky,” Kayla muttered, gently elbowing Bucky in the side to wake up him. “We’re back home, wake up.” She felt her upper arm being grabbed in a vice-like grip by Bucky’s left hand, the metal fingers digging into her flesh so hard she could feel the muscles being pressed together. Letting out a short gasp of pain, her eyes darted up to see Bucky staring at her, eyebrows knitted together in a confused, angry line as his eyes bore into hers.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” he growled at her.

Kayla’s mouth dropped open, all words falling from her mind as she gaped at him. “What… What are you talking about, Bucky?” she finally managed to whisper. She tried to rip her arm away, but his fingers dug in even further and she winced in pain. “Let go, dammit!” she hissed.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and rasping the harsh question.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” she murmured, the bottom falling out of her stomach as it finally sunk in that he wasn’t joking. His eyes were burning with anger and confusion, but sincere. “Your name is Bucky, my name is Kayla, we’ve been together for the past week or so, and for the love of God, we had sex last night, so you better start remembering something or I swear to all that is holy, I will throw you off this fucking plane!” The last words were spat from her mouth, dismay and worry making an unpleasant mix in her stomach.

Bucky looked her up and down, his mouth slightly open and eyes flickering to the right as her words sank in. What the hell was he doing? Where was he? He was on a plane… from…. Zurich? Yeah, Zurich, they were going from Zurich to New York. He used to live there, right? As the facts began trickling back into his mind it felt like someone had cleaved his head open with a blunt knife, the pain making him drive his palms into his forehead in an attempt to stamp it out. “Kay…” he growled, his eyes squeezed together and red spots dotting his vision.

Kayla watched him, unable to process what just happened. “Bucky?” Her arm snaked around his shoulders and she leaned in to try and see his face. “It’s ok… it’s ok…” That’s all she could say, easy words they both knew weren’t true. Bucky had just forgotten everything and remembered it again in a matter of seconds, and was now in extreme pain. That wasn’t normal. Kayla stroked the back of his head soothingly as her mind finally recovered from the shock and kicked into overdrive. How long had it been since Bucky had slept? He slept last night, but before then… a few hours here and there but that was it. Could it be fatigue? She bit her lip. People didn’t normally forget who they were from fatigue. This was something else, something new, and the word Hydra was scrawled all over it.

“We’ll be in New York in a few minutes, just… hang on, ok? Fury will know what to do, it’s ok, Bucky, it’s all going to be ok,” she whispered, her hand finding his and closing around it, trying to draw it away from his face.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening…” he replied, his voice barely above a whimper. “I forgot… I forgot everything…”

It felt like her heart was wrenching itself in two. “I know. It’s ok, listen to me, it’s alright. Fury can help you.” Her words froze in her mouth as she saw a bead of blood falling down from his face onto his lap. “Bucky, look at me,” she whispered, her tone urgent.

He lowered his hands slightly and turned his face to look at hers. Blood was running down in a small stream from his nose.

“Oh my God…” the words slipped from her lips as she saw his face, his eyes wide and terrified and circled with deep purple shadows, blood seeping down his lips to his chin. He was a wreck, and it terrified her too. But she couldn’t let him see that, so she just quickly dug a tissue out of her bag and carefully mopped up the blood on his face, her hand holding his cheek and thumb stroking across it when she was finished. “See, you’re fine now, ok?”

He nodded dumbly. “Ok.” He seemed to be reassuring himself more than her.

Kayla smiled at him, but the expression was strained, slipping away from her normally cool façade and revealing how scared she actually was. She had no idea how to deal with this situation, and that scared her more than anything. She sat back into her seat, taking a deep breath to steady her pounding heart and saw Bucky doing the same out of the corner of her eye. His fingers still gripped hers and held on tightly as if she was an anchor, even though she was as lost as he was, but somehow it helped to have someone to hold onto.

 

Fury was waiting for them outside the airport, hood hiding his face from the cameras and sunglasses set firmly on his nose as he stood patiently by a featureless black car.

“Don’t say anything about earlier,” Kayla muttered to Bucky as they approached him, her eyes narrowed and suspicious. She couldn’t look at Fury the same way now that she knew how much he had lied to her and used her for his own gain. But she couldn’t show him that she knew about the deleted file, so she set her face into a neutral expression.

“Long time, no see,” Fury said in way of a greeting as they reached him. He looked Bucky up and down. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Sergeant. No hard feelings about the whole killing thing.”

Bucky didn’t react, except to nod slightly.

Kayla could have kissed him. It had to be hard to be standing face to face with the man he’d been sent to kill and had nearly succeeded at doing so, but he was holding up well. “Can we go?” she asked casually, her heart beating quickly against her ribs.

Fury nodded and opened the boot of the car. “Put your stuff in here. I assume it’s all… personal things?”

She met his eyes with a cool gaze. “Yeah. Stuff I picked up in Prague,” she shot back.

Bucky opened the door carefully and slid in. He felt like he was made of glass, his mind oddly quiet but his brain still screaming with pain. As soon as Kayla got in next to him he leaned over to mutter in her ear. “Where are we going?”

“Hell if I know,” she whispered back, her words oddly bitter and clipped to him. “SHIELD hideout, I’m guessing. Somewhere Hydra didn’t know about.”

At the sound of his old employer’s name, Bucky flinched slightly, the guilt of what he had done to SHIELD burning in his stomach. He’d helped Hydra to spread inside it like a poison, rotting it from the inside. He was the reason why Kayla had been arrested, not directly, but the backhand dealing Senator Stern had been involved in was with Hydra, and if Hydra didn’t exist it never would have happened, so Kayla wouldn’t have been sent to kill him. It was a roundabout way of thinking, but he couldn’t help but feel like that was his fault too.

Kayla watched Bucky closely as Fury got into the car and they pulled away from the airport. She was worried, and scared, and angry, and a whole bunch of other things she couldn’t put a name to, and it was making her sick. The sooner they got to where they were going, the better.

“We need to stop at the Bank of New York,” she said, her words cutting through the silence in the car. Fury’s eyes glanced at her from the rear view mirror. “I need to pick up something,” she continued, holding his gaze with slightly narrowed eyes. “It won’t take long. Few minutes, tops.”

Fury nodded.

The car was silent again. Bucky stared out of the window at the passing city, his sad, lost eyes hoping to see something familiar amidst the jungle of buildings and billboards and electrical lines, but he found nothing. He wondered if this strange, alien city would ever feel like home again. He couldn’t even remember which part of it he was from. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off into the silence of his mind, waiting patiently for the pain to stop.

 

“You can stay here,” Kayla said quietly to Bucky as Fury got out of the car, her hand resting on the door handle.

Bucky shook his head. He felt so small, huddled inside the car, surrounded by skyscrapers and people. “No, I… “ His words were disjointed, quiet, as if his mouth and mind weren’t quite in sync. “No,” he settled on.

Her eyes darted over him quickly, her brow furrowed. “Ok,” she replied, her fingers brushing over his hand briefly, squeezing his index finger in a quick, subtle gesture of tenderness. She was very aware that Fury couldn’t know that she’d become close to Bucky. “Come on.”

The air outside the car was hot and it pressed against her skin as Kayla stepped onto the sidewalk, people crowding around her in ever moving masses. She breathed in a deep gulp of New York air, closing her eyes for a second and enjoying the fleeting comfort of finally being home, even if home was actually the other side of the island of Manhattan. Still, it was closer than she had been in years. As her eyes panned up the buildings around her, memories of her time in the city came rushing back to her. International assassin she might be, but before that she was a New Yorker.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and began walking towards the entrance to the bank, Bucky following her, his eyes darting from side to side and flinching at every siren and car horn. He was so out of it, she thought to herself as they passed into the cool interior of the building, doors revolving smoothly behind them and casting flashing reflections on the polished brown stone floor.

“Make it quick,” Fury muttered to her as he scanned the lobby, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. After deciding it was safe, he went to sit on the benches beside the door, underneath the huge arched windows.

“I will,” she replied shortly and made her way over to the reception desks. All she needed was some keys and a wad of cash (approximately $750) from her safety deposit box, untouched for 2 years. The keys were a spare set to her old apartment, kept in the bank in case she ever ran into trouble and lost her belongings, the cash was just an emergency precaution. She just hoped her SHIELD allowance in her account hadn’t been maxed out after paying rent for her 2 year absence. It would be really nice to go back home.

Bucky sat down beside Fury as Kayla began talking to the woman behind the desk. He twisted his hands together, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, letting his head drop forwards and hiding his face in his hair. Despite the air being cool inside the cavernous entrance hall, he felt too hot, sweat beading on his back and making his shirt stick to his skin and leather jacket feel heavier on his shoulders. Something felt wrong… he swallowed and tried to ignore the feeling biting at his stomach, but he couldn’t push it away. What was it? A memory? He’d been here before… not here, in this bank, but in another. Washington? He would walk through the lobby, the people at the desk would see him and take him down to the vault, he could almost hear the clanging of the barred metal door clanging shut.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, a crushing in his chest making his breath come out in heavy wheezes. His head spun, the images flashing past his eyes no matter how hard he tried to stop them. Not again, please not again, he begged as his fingers tightened around each other, twisting so hard he could feel the muscles and bones grind together. But the memory marched on, and he could only watch the man he knew to be himself being frogmarched into the vault, the walls lined with safety deposit boxes. He was being strapped to a chair, his arms bound with heavy metal clamps, oh God, he could feel them on his skin now, compressing until they held him down. He couldn’t move. A mouth guard was being shoved into his mouth, his tongue pressing back against the roof of his mouth and making him gag. Why didn’t he fight back? He was trapped inside his own body, powerless to do anything as he saw himself start to lean back in the chair, vertigo hitting his real body in a horrific muscle memory. No. He knew what was coming next, agonising pain, everything he was and knew being stripped away, his mind peeled away layer by excruciating layer. No… No!

His hands clawed at his head, a scream ripping through his mind, sounding like the shriek of wrenched metal. His teeth ground together so hard it felt like they would shatter, his eyes squeezed so tight he saw red dots blotting his vision, the image of the bank vault still surrounding him. The scream continued, tearing his thoughts into shreds, and he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, shaking him. His eyes snapped open, the scream cutting off in an instant, and he realised it had been coming from his own throat. Blinking, his eyes began clearing and through the haze of red he saw a pair of obsidian eyes staring desperately into his, a mouth open and urgently yelling his name. His name… what was his name again? What was she saying?

“Bucky!” Kayla shouted, ignoring the frantic buzzing of the people behind her. “Can you hear me?”

Bucky swallowed, his thoughts gaining traction in his mind again as he nodded dumbly.

She sighed with relief and sat back on her heels, running her hands over her hair. “Oh thank God…” she whispered. “We have to go, Buck, can you stand?” Her words were hushed, fast, desperate to get him away from the murmuring crowds. There were too many people around, too many people had seen and she was going out of her mind with fright and concern for the man in front of her. Her legs shook slightly as she stood, a feeling of light headedness falling over her. She held out a hand and helped Bucky to his feet, placing an arm around his shoulders and holding him close to her protectively as they walked towards the door together.

“Fury’s in the car,” she whispered to him as they passed through the revolving doors. “When you started to… He kept everyone back until you got better and then went to start the car.” Words rushed from her mouth as if they could distract him from what had just happened.

“When did you…”

“Just after you started screaming,” she replied. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Bucky, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” Her words cut off in a choked sob and she pressed a hand against her mouth, trying to keep the childish noises inside. Tears burnt her eyes as the shock set in, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Bucky allowed himself to be helped into the car and strapped in, his body numb after the panic attack. The headache had returned and all he could think about was the pain. It was so tempting to let himself slip into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, but he was terrified that if he did he would never wake up. “Kayla…” His words were barely above a breath, but she heard anyway.

“What?” She shuffled closer to him, not caring that Fury was sitting in front of them. Let him know, it didn’t matter to her anymore. Placing her hand on his gloved one, she stroked his skin with her thumb. “What is it?” she repeated soothingly.

“I want to go to sleep,” he said like a child, his eyes glassy and brow twitching as if his mind was fighting his words. “I just… I want to wake up…” A tear rolled down his cheek and he blinked, confused at the sudden moisture.

“I’ll make sure you do,” Kayla said, her voice thick with her own tears, even though she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, she had to be strong to show him it was all going to be ok. “I won’t let you sleep forever.”

At her words, Bucky’s eyes slid closed and his head dropped to the side, his hand growing slack around hers. Kayla sat back, her hand still clutching his as she took a deep, shaking breath.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she said softly to Fury, her voice hoarse and eyes staring blankly at the passing buildings. “It’s like he’s losing his mind. It’s more than normal panic attacks, it’s like he can’t see or hear anything around him, like his mind is…” she paused for a second, frowning. “Gone.”

“We’ll scan him when we get to the base,” Fury replied. If he thought anything about their closeness, he didn’t say it. “It’s possible that something is happening to his mind. Hydra brainwashing bullshit.” His tone was bitter, clipped, and his hands tightened around the wheel.

“Yeah… I guess.” Kayla’s head dropped to watch Bucky. If something was wrong physically, she didn’t know how to fix it. How was she supposed to protect him from himself? As the drove further into the city, everything around her faded away, leaving only Bucky and the poisonous feelings of worry, fathomless fright and sadness inside her gut.


	8. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I was having SO much trouble writing this section, so I figured I would upload this short interlude instead of a proper chapter cos otherwise it would take me a really long time to write it all. Enjoy!
> 
> The song at the end is based on this lovely one: https://soundcloud.com/megbodoun/star-spangled-man

Kayla opened the door to her apartment. She had never felt more like a stranger to her own home than she did in that moment, staring blankly and emotionlessly at the room in front of her. A phrase popped up in her mind as she stepped stiffly over the threshold, her shoes making almost no noise on the polished hardwood floor. Diaspora… Where people were scattered, shifted away from their homeland to live somewhere different. She thought she’d understood that feeling when she had been locked up in a cell for 2 years, completely isolated and alone amidst the sea of prisoners, but now she’d actually returned home… This was more of a home than anywhere she’d ever been, and yet she felt like an unwanted guest.

Sighing, Kayla closed the door and shrugged her coat off, hanging it on the black hooks beside the door and set her case down, and walked over to throw open the curtains. Dust rose from the fabric like a cloud of gold powder, drifting across the room and swirling in lazy patterns as she opened the windows. Air rushed past her face, and as the living room filled with light and noise she started to recognise it. There were the same greyish-blue chairs and sofa that she’d bought with the first paycheck SHIELD gave her. There was the dark wood cabinet set up against the wall that she’d found at a flea market in Chelsea, filled with books and CDs behind glass panelled doors. She remembered a time when she had the time and the patience to read. Her flat screen was still there, that was nice, but her license had run out last year.

Kayla blinked herself out of her reverie and reached into her bag, removing the file given to her by Fury a miniature eternity ago. It took a bit of effort to work it out, it was wedged between the two long, flat, black-wrapped parcels she’d taken from the cache in Prague.

 Her fingers traced the Russian lettering on the cover of the file before she opened it. The picture of Bucky fell out, tumbling to the floor. Slowly, she bent down to retrieve it, her eyes fixed on his smiling, frozen face. She wondered if he’d ever look like that again. Doubtful, given… She tore her thoughts away. She didn’t want to think about that now, it was why she’d needed some time alone in the first place, time to get her thoughts in order, sand down the rough edges and try and make sense of them again.

She walked across the room, laying down the file on the coffee table in front of the armchair, and carefully placed the picture on one of the shelves in the cabinet, closing the doors over it and brushing her fingers across the cold glass as she moved away. As she reached her room, she barely made it to the bed before her knees gave out on her and she collapsed heavily on the mattress, the springs creaking in protest. No matter how much she tried to not think about earlier, her mind kept wandering to it. She had too much for one person to handle inside her head, too many secrets that weren’t hers but weighed heavily on her mind nonetheless. She couldn’t do this anymore… As her eyes slid closed, the thought bounced around in her skull.

_I’m only one person_

 

~2 hours earlier~

 

Kayla watched Bucky’s body being swallowed into the MRI scanner from behind the glass window, her focus catching sight of her own eyes staring back at her. What had happened to her? Only a week or so ago she had been so full of life, ready to start back on her old path, but now… Her skin was ashen, her eyes tired and lined with deep purple shadows, making them seem oddly large above her downturned mouth. She had gone from being international assassin, brimming with the confidence and swagger that came with knowing she was the best at what she did, to emaciated convict, muscles stretched like wires over her body, scars standing out against her thinning frame. Now all she could see when she looked at herself was a person without purpose, eyes blank and glassy, eyebrows drawn together in a constant expression of worry and confusion, mouth that normally held a constant smile at the corners now downturned into a tense line. A lot could happen in the course of a week it seemed…

“What is it?” she said as she heard Fury approach her, her eyes still focused on Bucky and her hands clutching her upper arms tighter.

Fury stood beside her in the low ceilinged, box like room, the walls lined with dark green bricks that shone in the dim light. “His brain is deteriorating,” he replied, his words slow and short, watching Bucky slowly emerge from the machine as he spoke. “It looks like all those times that Hydra played with his mind are finally catching up to him.”

Kayla drew in a quick, shaking breath. “How?”

Fury handed her a computer tablet, the brain scan laid out on its screen. “Shrinking in the cerebral cortex and hippocampus, severely enlarged ventricles,” he said as she took it from him. “I have no idea what that means but it doesn’t sound good.”

Kayla scanned the pictures dully. It almost didn’t feel real, like this wasn’t his brain, he wasn’t the one lying still unconscious in the next room, electrodes stuck to his forehead and bare chest. Like everything that had happened was just a cruel illusion.

“No,” she said quietly to Fury. “It’s not.” She handed the tablet back to him and ripped her eyes away from the window, turning to face him grimly. “What do we do?”

Fury didn’t answer for a moment, just pressed a finger to a button on the wall beside a small speaker. “Agent Hill, can you come in here,” he said tersely.

“Yes sir,” came the short reply before the speaker cut out. A few moments later the glass door that led to the corridor outside opened and a woman walked in, her dark hair swept back into a sleep topknot. She nodded to Kayla as she caught her eye. “Operative,” she said as way of a greeting.

Kayla nodded in response. She had never met Agent Maria Hill, but had heard about her. Model agent, Fury’s right hand woman. Therefore by association, Kayla didn’t trust her.

“There’s no cure for what he has,” Hill began. “We know barely anything about how the brainwashing worked, and all the intel we had on Hydra was limited to their World War Two phase. Anything we could have found out about them was destroyed when the bunker Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff found was blown up.”

“That’s not an answer,” Kayla shot back.

“It’s possible that this started when he began to rebel against the Hydra brainwashing,” Hill continued smoothly, narrowing her eyes slightly at Kayla before looking towards Bucky through the screen. “From what we can gather from the limited intel we’ve managed to get, Hydra had been doing what they called “wipes” a couple of times a year, sometimes less, in order to repress his memories and continue controlling him. We think that those wipes both caused this dementia and prevented it from taking hold.”

“So what was killing him was also keeping him alive,” Kayla muttered, turning away from her, her eyes focusing on the floor. It was too much to handle, she had to focus on one thing at a time otherwise she’d fall apart. “Can we cure him?”

Hill drew in a deep breath, her mouth hardening into a thin line. “We don’t know,” she admitted. “It looks like Hydra did have a way of stopping the onset of the dementia, some sort of chemical reaction involved in the wipe, but we don’t know enough about it to replicate it.”

“Where’s all of Hydra’s information now?”

Hill glanced at Fury before answering. “What do you mean?”

“Hydra was a huge organisation, at least double the size of SHIELD, they can’t have stored all their intel in one place.” Kayla spun around to face them, her eyes seething with anger. “Do you think I’m stupid? Where is the information?” she spat through gritted teeth. “Cos I’m starting to piece things together in my mind and I’m thinking that there’s more to this than you’re telling me.”

Fury held her glare calmly. “Hill, excuse us,” he said without looking away from Kayla. As Hill nodded and left the room, he lifted his chin, observing her through narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?”

“The codes I mentioned to you earlier, it has something to do with Hydra’s intel, doesn’t it?” she asked, her tone low and still.

He didn’t even blink. “Of a sort.”

“I swear to God, Fury, you better explain to me right now what the hell is going on,” she hissed, barely able to contain her anger. “Because if there’s some secret that will save his life locked away in these codes I will stop at nothing to get it.”

Fury looked at her for an agonisingly long moment before nodding once. “Alright. But not here.” He began walking to the door, holding it open for her to walk through.

Kayla glanced over her shoulder at Bucky before following him.

As they emerged into the low corridor, strip lighting casting dim white light down its grey tiled walls, Fury turned to Hill, waiting patiently outside the door. “Take him to room 208,” he ordered before looking back at Kayla. “You’re right, the codes do have something to do with the Hydra intel, but not in the way that you think,” he began as Hill’s footsteps receded down the corridor.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Fury. You’re gonna tell me right now what the fuck is going on, what these codes are and why I was apparently held by Draconis for 2 months, not 3 weeks.” The words rushed out of her. She was done tiptoeing around the topic, she had to know now why Fury had hidden all this from her.

“There was a mission…” Fury began, heaving a deep sigh as he spoke. “We were contacted by a Hydra operative who offered us intel on Hydra in exchange for protection.”

“Doctor Valentina…” Kayla murmured.

Fury nodded. “Yeah. She said that she had a way into Hydra’s mainframe, the codes you were talkin’ about, they were a kind of key to access the information, but she said wouldn’t tell us unless we sent a team to extract her from the Rome base. We sent you.”

“But… the mission, Dante’s son, I killed him,” Kayla spluttered. That was the one part of the story she knew was true, thanks to the murder attempt what felt like years ago in Rome.

“We needed a cover, and luckily Dante’s son was due to be killed anyway. Made a nice excuse to send you in, but unfortunately the job went south after you bumped him off. You and Valentina were taken to a Draconis base in Ukraine and held for 2 months.”

“Did…Did SHIELD even extract me?” Kayla narrowed her eyes at him, her head spinning from the information. “Or was that a lie too?”

“No, we extracted you after we got the location of the base, but Valentina had already been killed,” he answered, his voice grim.

“Ok.” Kayla lifted her chin to glance at the ceiling, her calm tone concealing that inside she was shaking with anger. “One last question.” Her head dropped and her burning eyes met Fury’s, seeing him blink in surprise at the onslaught of her gaze. “Why the hell can’t I remember any of this.”

Fury swallowed, weighing response options in his head. “Because you were wiped by Draconis in an attempt to extract the codes from you,” he said finally.

It felt like the floor was dropping away from Kayla’s feet, vertigo making her body spike with shock and fear. “I was…” It sounded like her voice was coming from the end of a very long tunnel. “What?”

“You were tortured but still didn’t release the codes,” Fury continued, his face never changing expression. “I guess it was a last resort kind of thing. They didn’t know what else to try, you turned out to be a little more stubborn than they were prepared for, so I assume they wiped you to break down your barriers. Make you more complacent.”

“They… tortured me?” Kayla could barely hear her words over the roaring in her ears. It felt like her entire world was crashing down around her. “Do I… Do I still know the codes?” Her voice was weak, struggling against the strain of both exhaustion and tears in her throat.

Fury watched her, his eyes grave and almost sad behind his glasses. “We don’t know. Valentina told you them before she died, we don’t know how or why she was killed but we do know that much. When we extracted you we took back a little souvenir, a Draconis operative who turned out to be not as resistant to interrogation as you. I suspect that you do, but I don’t know if you’ll ever remember them. Which is a shame. Getting our hands on Hydra’s intel from the past 90 years, that would really be a big win for us.” Fury inhaled deeply and heaved out a large sigh, staring at the wall beside him. “I imagine they got some pretty nasty stuff planned…”

If she remembered them, she could save Bucky. She didn’t care about saving the world from whatever plans Hydra had, she just cared about saving someone important to her. And finding out where the Draconis base was, so she could wipe it off the face of the planet.

“I’ll remember them,” she growled, staring down the corridor with eyes burning with anger.

 

~2 hours later~

 

The buzzing of Kayla’s phone made her jolt awake from a light, fevered sleep. She rolled awkwardly over, the edge of the bed vanishing underneath her as she fell off the side. Rubbing her eyes, she groped around for her phone, finally finding it buried between the folds of the comforter.

“Hello?” she croaked.

“We need you here, now.”

Fury sounded pissed. Wonderful. “Why? Did something happen with Bucky?” Her mind leapt into action as the worry set in.

“Yeah. He’s gone.”

“What? Where!?” Kayla scrambled to her feet, running her hand over her hair.

“We don’t know. But he can’t have gotten far, probably within 4 block radius.”

“Yeah, unless he got the subway.” Her voice bounced up and down as she jogged towards the front door, grabbing her coat and bag as she swung it open, the phone tucked between her shoulder and ear.

“The man can barely walk around without screaming his head off, I doubt he’d be able to figure out the subway.”

“He used to live here, Fury,” Kayla spat back, slamming the door behind her and pulling her coat on. “I’m pretty sure he can work the subway.”

“Damn… Find him, Farin. Now.” The line cut out.

Dropping the phone into her hand, Kayla didn’t even register how mad Fury sounded. _Dammit Bucky... Where would you go?_

***

Bucky had no idea where he was going. He didn’t even know how he got out of the base, everything was a strange, distorted blur of shadows and colours and flashing noises. He just wandered the city, lights flickering on in his wake as the sun dipped below the buildings and darkness began creeping at the edges of the streets. Where was his mind taking him? It was like the path he was meant to follow was burnt in a bright gold line in front of him, and he just had to blindly follow it. He didn’t know if it was from a Hydra memory or a real one, but he just knew it would take him somewhere where everything might start to make sense.

He was dying, he knew that. After he’d woken up, Kayla had explained everything, her eyes wide and half-mad with tiredness. She’d said that the Hydra memory wipes had nearly destroyed his brain, and they couldn’t cure him unless they found the intricate details about how the wipes worked inside the lost Hydra intel. And they couldn’t find the intel unless Kayla remembered the codes to access it. And, as if everything else wasn’t enough, he was in a SHIELD base 2 floors below the New York public library. At least that last fact was pretty cool, if the others made him want to rip his skull open and just end everything. His metal hand shook with the effort of controlling himself. He could end it all, but what good would that do? He wanted to make everyone responsible for this pay, Hydra, Draconis, everyone who had hurt and used him had to die before he could.

As he walked down into the subway, he barely noticed his actions. He only stopped walking when he reached the turnstile, unsure of what to do. Oh well… while in New York… Glancing around, he saw nobody about, so quickly hopped over the barrier. Tugging his grey hoodie down a little as he landed, he straightened and carried on walking, shoving his hands in his pockets. It had felt like something he had done a few times before… maybe this route he was taking was his mind trying to regain lost memories of when he grew up in the city.

He followed his feet onto one of the trains, slumping down into the seat and pulling the hood of his jacket up, hiding his face, painfully aware of the missing 2 inches of hair Kayla had cut off. The steady rhythm of the train soothed his aching head, and he let the beat of the tracks fill his mind. The carriage was virtually empty, just him and a few other people sitting lost in their own worlds the other end of the car.

As the train pulled into another station, brakes squealing and grating unpleasantly, the sound of a guitar could be heard, seeping through the closed train doors. The lilting melody grew louder as the doors opened, and Bucky could see the player standing between the two sides of the platform, an acoustic guitar held in her hands as she plucked the strings expertly, her voice rising and falling in a beautiful wave of song. The tune sounded familiar, almost sad but in a hopeful way, he’d never been very good at describing the intricacies of the way music made him feel. It made him remember sitting in smoky, dimly lit cafes, listening to someone pluck a guitar in the corner, a million years ago.

An announcement blared through the carriage’s speakers, something about the train being delayed for a few minutes, but Bucky barely noticed it. His entire mind was riveted on the guitar player as she began to sing in earnest, her words reaching him from across the station.

_Who’s strong and brave, here to save the American way…._

_Who vows to fight, swift and true, for what’s right_

_Night and day_

_Who will do all this and more for America_

_Carry the dream shore to shore for America_

_From Hoboken to Spokane…._

_The Star Spangled Man with a Plan_

That’s where he knew it from. It sounded a little different, the song more plaintive and melodic when played on an acoustic guitar, but it was the same. The song that used to play on the single battered radio of the camp every so often, the men around it either laughing and singing along, or grumbling to themselves about Hollywood and not being where they were. The memory hit him like a truck, making him blink and gasp slightly as the doors closed and he felt the tug of the train leaving the station. The girl with her guitar began disappearing from his sight, still singing, unaware of the effect she’d just had on the best friend of the man she was singing so earnestly about. Just before the train entered the darkness of the tunnels again, Bucky caught a proper glimpse of the girl, and his heart froze when he saw that she had a prosthetic left hand, the slender rods of her fingers, so ornate compared to his, expertly darting between the strings to create her music. As the train was swallowed by the tunnel and the girl disappeared forever, Bucky stared down at his left hand, the metal glinting against the fluorescent lights of the carriage. It seemed so strange to him that something like that could be used to create something so beautiful and gentle, not just be used to destroy.

 

 


	9. Star Spangled Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds himself on the doorstep of an old friend.

Bucky had no idea what he was doing. He was in an apartment building in Brooklyn, standing outside the dark wood door with the stairs behind him, the smell of fabric softener from the laundry room below him permeating his nostrils and mixing with the bitter sting of adrenaline in his mind. His hand was raised, ready to knock on the door, but unsure why he should. The pieces of his brain that still worked were whirring anxiously. Whose apartment was this? Why was he here? What had drawn him to this place, and why did it feel almost safe, despite him not knowing where he was? It was all too strange for him, and his hand dropped to his face, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What the hell are you doing, Bucky…” he whispered to himself, the words huffing out of him in a long sigh.

“He’s just got back,” came a female voice from behind him and Bucky’s head snapped around, hands clenching into fists instinctively.

A blonde haired woman stood behind him, holding an empty plastic laundry basket. She smiled at him, and he was taken aback by the brightness of the expression. “Uh… Sorry, I… What?” he mumbled.

She glanced down, smiling a little wider. “It’s ok. He’s just got back, but I think he’ll be leaving again soon.”

“Uh…” Bucky glanced back at the door, then at the woman again. “Thanks.”

She nodded and turned to walk towards the stairs, pulling her apartment door closed behind her.

“Um, sorry, what’s your name?” Bucky didn’t know why he asked.

The woman stopped with one foot on the stair, her hand resting on the banister, the green paint peeling off slightly. “Sharon. And you?”

“James,” Bucky replied without thinking.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, James.”

“Nice to meet you too, Sharon.”

Sharon smiled at him again and began descending down the stairs again.

Bucky turned back to the door, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

“You know, it’s weird…”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at Sharon, only her shoulders and head visible to him now. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I just…” she let out a short laugh. “You remind me of someone my aunt told me about once. Guess you just have one of those faces. Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Bye, James.”

Bucky nodded dumbly. “Yeah, bye Sharon.”

The hallway lapsed into silence as Sharon’s footsteps receded down the stairs and into the laundry room below. Bucky squared his shoulders, and before he could overthink it anymore, he knocked on the door.

“One second!” A shout came from behind the door, and Bucky’s mind jumped at the familiar sound. He knew that voice… he knew it better than any voice in the world, including his own. He’d known that voice for years, laughed with it, listened to everything it had to say and thought about the things it hadn’t. He’d lived without knowing it for an lifetime, and the sound of it against his ears again had pulled his mind back from the brink of darkness. Oh God… He _knew_ that voice…

As the door opened, all the air in Bucky’s lungs rushed out of him, and all thoughts were banished from his mind, leaving him completely empty as he stood looking into a face he’d known for eternity. And all he could do was stare, no words in his mind or mouth that could satisfy the situation.

“Oh my God…” Steve breathed. “Bucky?”

Bucky took a deep, sharp breath in, his mouth pulling into an odd smile, a feeling of happiness welling up in his chest, making him sad and more than a little bit afraid.. “Hi.” It was all he could manage, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, his entire body flooding with emotions.

“You…. You found your way back…” The words tumbled from Steve’s mouth as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. He reached out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, the other man flinching back slightly out of instinct before allowing Steve’s hand to rest on him.

“Yeah. I found my way back,” Bucky replied softly, his voice thick. All this time, his mind had been leading him to the one person who would make him feel perfectly safe, and that made him want to burst into tears. He had been carved into a ruthless weapon, but his mind had never given up, just kept its secrets locked away until he needed them most. Maybe he’d never been as lost as he’d once believed...

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he continued haltingly, staring into Steve’s eyes, his vision blurring around the edges as tears rose in his eyes.

“Buck…” The hand on his shoulder tightened, as if he was an anchor Steve was clinging to. “All that matters is that you’re here now.”

 

“So…” The water inside the coffee machine started to rumble as it began boiling. Steve leaned back against the counter, staring at the man standing awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen. “I would ask how you’ve been but… Seems a little weird. I’m not sure what to say.” He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Yeah…” Bucky said lamely, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His eyes darted around Steve’s apartment, taking in the tasteful yet homely way it was decorated, all of his books and CDs lined up neatly on the shelves separating the living room from the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. It was nice.

“I’ve been looking for you, you know,” Steve told him, not unkindly, just simply stating a fact. “Found a few leads, but they turned out to be nothing. Figured you didn’t want to be found.”

Bucky winced with guilt as he heard the bitterness in Steve’s tone. The man wasn’t angry at him, just sad, sounding almost ashamed with himself for not being able to find Bucky. “I’m sorry. I had to disappear, I didn’t know if Hydra was still out there.”

“Yeah. I think you can stop worrying about them.” Steve gave a short laugh. “I think they went down with the helicarriers.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, the sharp guilt from what happened on the helicarriers stabbing into his gut. He looked away.

The shrill beep of the coffee machine broke the tense silence between them, and Steve brought two mugs out of one of the cupboards, pouring the coffee into them.

“Black, right?” he said as he handed one of the mugs to Bucky.

Bucky paused before nodding. “Thanks.” It spoke volumes that Steve knew how Bucky took his coffee, but Bucky himself didn’t. He reached out with his metal hand to take it, and Steve tensed as they brushed against his skin. “Sorry…” he muttered as he pulled back, embarrassment flushing his face red.

“It’s ok, I just… I’m not used to seeing you with that yet,” Steve hastened to reassure him.

“Neither am I…” Bucky mumbled, his eyes still downturned.

The two of them fell into silence again. Steve frowned slightly. What were you supposed to say to a lifelong friend who was brainwashed by your greatest enemy and used to almost kill you, now miraculously (almost) recovered and showing up at your home? He doubted even the internet could answer that question.

“Do you wanna sit down?” he asked, and Bucky nodded. He walked into the living room and sat down, noticing the way Bucky paused momentarily and stared at the now blank space on the wall above the chair where Fury had sat, what seemed like years ago. He wondered if Bucky remembered shooting through that wall and into the Director’s back. From the way his eyes darted to the ground and how he sat as far away from it as possible, Steve guessed he did.

“So… How did you get back here?” he asked.

“On a plane,” Bucky replied. “I was in Rome for a couple of days.”

“Rome?”

“Yeah. Then Prague. Then Zurich.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised and he smiled. “Damn, Buck. You did used to say you wanted to see Europe, but didn’t expect you to get it done so fast.”

Bucky glanced at him, a mischievous smile tugging at his mouth, and for a second he looked like his old self. “I was with someone. We were… trying to avoid people.”

“Who were you with?”

Bucky brushed his hair back before answering. “An old SHIELD operative. She was hired by Fury to bring me back to New York, but we ran into a group called Draconis. I think they used to be part of Hydra, I’m not sure. They tried to kill us a couple of times before we got on a plane to New York.”

It was the longest sentence Steve had heard him say since he got there. “Fury hired someone to find you…” He closed his eyes momentarily. Just like Fury to try and go behind his back like that, sending someone out to find Bucky while Steve was busy on a mission. Still, Bucky was back now, so this person had obviously done her job well. “What’s her name?”

“Kayla Farin,” Bucky replied. Even though he knew her real name, he felt like that was something only he should know for now.

Steve noticed the soft way he said her name, and he almost smiled. Typical Bucky… He always loved a girl in uniform. And he was comforted by the fact there had been someone looking out for Bucky when he couldn’t.

“So you’re back. Are you going to stay?” He almost didn’t want to ask in case he didn’t get the answer he wanted, but he had to know where Bucky was going to be, even if it wouldn’t be near him.

Bucky didn’t answer for a while. “I don’t know. Whatever Hydra did to me, it’s killing me now. There’s a way to fix it but it’s locked in the Hydra intel and we can’t get into that without these codes, and nobody knows them except Kayla, and they’re locked in her mind somewhere.” It was all said so matter of factly, so calmly. He knew what was happening, and the knowledge that he was probably going to die soon didn’t scare him. He’d died a long time ago, after all, everything since then had been like a horrible nightmare, and he just wanted it to end. He was too tired to keep up pretences.

“You’re dying?” Steve’s voice was quiet.

“Yeah. Unless they can make a cure from the intel.”

“Ok.” Steve was silent for a moment, then… “So how are you going to get the intel?” It was said almost like Steve was giving him a challenge, a blatant refusal to accept the fact that Bucky was going to die.

“What? I told you, I don’t know the codes.”

“Is that the only way to get into the intel? Come on, Buck, you’re smarter than that. You and I both know Hydra would never put all their bullets into one gun, there’s always a back up.”

Bucky frowned. Steve was right, Hydra would never do that. And he knew Hydra a lot better than Steve did, so where would it be? “Their base…” he whispered. “Hydra had a base in Ukraine somewhere. I never went there, but I heard them talk about it. It’s where they kept most of their hard drives and carbon copies of information.”

Steve smiled. That was more like the Bucky he knew, always sharp, always thinking. “Ok. So what now?”

“I could go there and find the intel in the files,” Bucky mused, his train of thought helped along by Steve as he rambled. “If I could find Zola’s original files, I would be able to find out how the wipes worked, and then Fury’s people could reverse engineer a cure.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “You really trust him?”

Bucky’s eyes darted to him. “Do you?”

He couldn’t answer that, just blinked a couple of times and looked down, his mouth closing into a thin line. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

“I think… I have to.” Bucky’s frown deepened as he bit his lip. “And I trust Kayla. If Fury won’t help me, she will.”

The lines around Steve’s mouth faded as the corners twitched into a smile. One day he’d like to meet Kayla. If Bucky trusted her she had to be a pretty decent person. Except he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous and almost guilty that he hadn’t been the one to find Bucky and put him back together, but if Bucky had sought him out that meant that he must still mean something to him. He hoped.

“You know I recognised you on the roof.”

Steve jumped at the sound of Bucky’s quiet, sad voice breaking the short silence that had fallen over them. “What?”

“That night I shot Fury. When you threw the shield and I caught it, I knew you. I recognised you, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” Bucky’s eyes were fixed on the wall, glued to the spot where he’d shot through and killed the Director. “It was like I was trapped inside my own body and all I could do was scream your name over and over inside my head and hope that you heard it. It’s why I didn’t kill you. I couldn’t.”

“Buck…”

“They wiped me again after that. S’why I didn’t remember anything before now, I just…” His eyes shone with tears and he swallowed, his voice thick. “I just remembered now.”

Steve had no idea what to say. What could he say? What words could possibly bridge the gap between them? He reached out and took Bucky’s hand, holding it gently as the metal fingers stiffly closed around his. “It’s gonna be ok, Buck. I promise.”

Bucky squeezed his best friend’s hand as tight as he dared, his metal fingers capable of snapping human bones like twigs now holding them carefully as he looked at Steve and managed a small, infinitely sad smile. “Thanks.”

 

***

 

Kayla knew it was him before she saw him properly. The light of the setting sun was blinding her as she stood at the edge of the Park’s path, the boating lake a burning pool of gold stretching out in front of her. Bucky sat alone on the other side, staring at the water, his shoulders hunched over and his hands clasped. He seemed miles away, the lake between them more like an ocean as she watched him silently. She began walking towards him, her footsteps heavier and jarring throughout her entire body. A cool breeze kissed her face, the smell of the trees and grass rushing into her, and for a moment everything seemed perfectly still, a single fragile, shining moment that would shatter with a single word. And she wanted it to last forever, and it broke her heart that it couldn’t. The sound of church bells wove through the air dimly behind her as she drew closer to Bucky, her heavy bag slung loosely across her shoulders and her hands in her pockets, a few stray wisps of her blowing across her face in the slight breeze.

“Hey,” she said softly.

His head rose up but he didn’t turn to look at her. “Hi.”

Kayla’s mouth tightened into a concerned line, and she sat down beside him, placing her bag on the ground next to her, the metal packages still inside clanking against each other dully. The boat lake was empty, the sunlight only sparkling in one corner as the sun dipped lower behind the buildings. It would be dark soon.

“Sorry, I couldn’t take it anymore Kay. I just…. I couldn’t.”

“It’s ok,” she replied. Their words were so careful, so gentle.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Followed my gut.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “Also your file said you used to come here when you were a kid. Figured you might go to familiar places.”

Bucky nodded. “None of this place is familiar,” he said after a short pause, his voice shaking. “This is supposed to be my home, but I don’t recognise a single piece of it. Makes me wonder if anything before Hydra got hold of me is real.” His head dropped again and he stared at the floor, his fingers twisting around each other.

“It’s real, Bucky. I promise you, it’s real.”

 _A lot of promises are being made today…_ Bucky closed his eyes. Lots of promises, but he didn’t believe a single one of them. The tightness in his chest grew and tears burned his eyelids. He hated feeling like this, he hated everything about it, so much that it felt like he would burst. “I can’t do this,” he whispered.

Kayla turned to look at him. She felt utterly useless, all she wanted to do was fix the man beside her but she had no idea how to. “Do what?” It was all she could say.

“Everything, the mission, getting the cure, being _me_ again, I just… It’s too much. I can’t do it.” Bucky’s tone was frantic, desperately pleading for help that she couldn’t give.

“What mission?”

“I think the intel is in Hydra’s information base in Ukraine,” Bucky told her in a rush. “If I can get it then we can reverse engineer a cure from Zola’s notes, but I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get there. My brain is breaking apart, how am I supposed to go in and do this?” He lifted his head and stared across the water, a chill creeping across his skin as the sun disappeared, a mocking smile on his lips. “I’m not Captain America, Kay. I don’t save people, I don’t do good things, I don’t pull miraculous missions, I’m not… I’m the Winter Soldier. I’m a killing machine with no purpose. And I always will be.”

“You could have fooled me,” Kayla said, more sharpness in her tone than she intended.

“What are you talking about?”

She fixed him with a steely glare as he turned to look at her. “You don’t save people? You saved me from falling down that vent in Prague. You don’t do good things? I’ve got pretty substantial proof that you can, and have. Miraculous missions? Your quick thinking saved both of us on that train, while I was busy freaking out. You’re right, you’re not Captain America. But you’re not the Winter Soldier either, you are so much more than that. Than both of them. Don’t you ever think you’re not.” Her heart pounded against her ribs as she finished, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She realised her eyes were damp, and rubbed them angrily before continuing in a gentler tone.

“You have to remember that you were Bucky Barnes before you were the Winter Soldier. You say that because of the Winter Soldier the world’s all gone to shit but you forget that, without Bucky Barnes, Captain America could never have become a hero. Without you… the world would have ended a long time ago. You start thinking in binaries and you never stop. You were Bucky then you were the Winter Soldier now you’re… something else. Something new. A mix of the two of neither one, it doesn’t matter, but the point is you’re not that person anymore. You never will be again.”

Bucky stared at her, his eyes wide and mind reeling from her speech. Nobody had ever spoken so plainly to him before. He wondered if she knew exactly what to say because, deep down, she was talking about herself as well. She’d never admit it, but he knew she was going through the same thing he was, they were more similar that she wanted to admit. He reached out and took her hand.

“Thank you,” he told her, his eyes fixed on hers in an intense gaze. He was saying that a lot today but it didn’t matter, he meant it. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have people in his life like Steve and Kayla, he probably never would, but it was alright. As long as they stuck around he would be ok.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, the cool breeze wafting into their faces and blowing wisps of hair across their eyes. The sounds of the city seemed to be miles away, unable to touch them within their bubble of tranquillity. Slow rushing of the wind through the leaves filled the air with a dull, seamless sound, tiny ripples dancing across the dark water in front of them, glinting silver and gold in the reflection from the street lights.

“You know I still don’t feel like I know this place,” Bucky said softly, his voice hoarse.

Kayla turned to look at him, her dark eyes calm and still.

“Sometimes it feels familiar. I grew up here but it’s changed so much that it’s not even my city anymore. I get flashes but I can’t quite get hold of them and when I try it… it hurts.” Bucky dropped his head down to stare at the ground briefly, collecting himself before tilting his head up with a deep sigh, staring at the dark, velvet sky above him, its deep blue canvas streaked with grey-blue lines.

Kayla pressed her lips together before standing, her muscles stiff. She held out a hand to Bucky. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Just… trust me, Barnes.”

A smile tugged his mouth as he heard her call him by his last name. Just like old times. Wrapping his hand around hers, he stood and let her lead him across the park and up a small hill, hidden between a thin row of trees in a far corner of the park and removed from the pathways that cut across it.

Kayla climbed to the top and waited for Bucky to reach her, before placing her hands on his shoulders and turning him around, towards the buildings looming over them.

“Look.”

“At what?”

“The city, Bucky. You used to live here, remember.”

His lips formed a thin line as he stared up at the unfamiliar buildings above him. “But it’s not really the same anymore. I don’t know this place. I keep telling you!” His voice rose as he grew agitated.

Kayla’s hands squeezed his shoulders. “You’re wrong,” she stated simply. “It hasn’t changed that much. I mean, the buildings are bigger and the coffee is more expensive, but if you look underneath… it’s the same.” She leaned around him and pointed at a building directly across from them, its outline and stylistic facades barely visible in the fading light. “Look at that building. When do you think it was built?”

“I dunno. 1940s?”

“It was finished 2 years ago. An architect called James Roth designed it to look exactly like an old building his dad used to talk about when he was younger.” Kayla moved to stand beside him, her hands dropping from his shoulders as she continued detachedly. “The city changes but somehow it stays the same. I go to the neighbourhood where I grew up and I barely recognise it, but once I start walking… it all comes back to me.”

“Where was it?”

“Harlem. You were born in Indiana and moved to Brooklyn, I was born and raised in the back alleys of Harlem, dodging drug dealers and crack dens but we both ended up in the same place. Places change, people move on but where we come from always stays the same in our minds. You never lose that feeling of home, it just gets a bit harder to get hold of.” She looked up at him, tiny galaxies in her eyes from distant street lights. “You’re not alone, Bucky. You just gotta look a bit further.”

Bucky stared down at her, his fingers reaching up to brush over her face. “Kayla, I-“ His words cut off as something was forced roughly over his head, air rushing into his lungs and bringing in a choking taste of stale sweat and coarse fibres that stung his lungs and mouth. His hands flailed wildly through the air in front of him, trying to grab his attackers, trying to get hold of Kayla, anything, but they fell through horrifically empty space. Where was Kayla? Who had attacked them? His fingers scrabbled at his neck, trying to catch the edge of the bag which was now cutting into his neck and squeezing his throat closed. As he gasped for air, his mind a cacophony of confusion and rage, he felt his wrists being grabbed and twisted behind him. Something hard and heavy clamped his hands together, and no matter how hard he pulled, metal muscles screaming and trying to wrench themselves free, he couldn’t break his bindings. What was happening?

His mind started to slip into stillness and silence as he slowly ran out of air, his mouth wide open and gasping for a drop of oxygen, the pressure crushing his skull as his eyes slid shut. He fell backwards and into the waiting arms of his assailants, the last thing he felt before passing out was a needle jabbing into his forearm, a sickeningly cold liquid seeping into his veins and spreading across his arm. All strength dropped from him, his head lolling forwards and all thoughts wiped from his mind except one.

 

_Kayla…_


	10. Frostbite

 

The musty smell of the bag seeped into Kayla’s nostrils as her mind dragged itself out of the darkness it had been encased in. Tiny pinpricks of light dotted her vision from outside the sack, and she struggled to lift her head slightly, the muscles in her neck seeming to be made of lead. She felt sick. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and she could barely think straight. What had happened? She had been in the park, then… they were attacked? All she remembered was sudden darkness, being unable to breathe, and being injected with something. Then nothing.

Wait, Bucky! Where was Bucky? Her head jerked up, pain shooting down her shoulders from the sudden movement as she twisted around, finally becoming aware of her body. She was sitting, her ankles tied to the legs of the chair and her arms twisted uncomfortably behind her, wrists bound in what felt like 12 ropes. She was completely vulnerable, blind to everything around her and unable to protect herself. And she had no knives, but it still felt like she was wearing her watch with the tiny blade inside it. Not that she could flick it out, or that it could make any sort of a dent in her restraints, but she could still try. If only she could see where she was…

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the sack was ripped off her head, her hair falling across her eyes and the sudden light blinding her. Instinctively, she screwed up her face and tried to adjust quickly. As her vision began to clear, she counted 3 silhouettes in the room with her. It wasn’t a room so much as an empty box, with a high ceiling and damp, greyish-green walls which glistened in the glow from the thin strip lighting around the walls. Her eyes darted around, taking in every detail with meticulous precision. A thick metal door marked the only exit, with huge, heavy and rusting bolts across its surface. It was at least 15 inches thick. Why was it so large? This wasn’t a warehouse, it was too sturdy. A factory maybe? But surely a factory wouldn’t have a door like that…

“Agent Farin,” a voice said from behind her, and Kayla jolted, twisting around to try and see who was speaking.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” Her voice sounded like death.

A thin, low laugh issued from the shadows behind her, its edge as cold as steel, making her shiver inwardly. “Oh, we have met, Agent. Many years ago, but you would not remember, I think.” The accent was vaguely German, but not much. It sounded more English than German, the voice oddly gentle and soft.

Kayla’s eyes screwed up against the light as she turned back around. “Let me guess, you had something to do with my wiped memories? Well, getting the codes didn’t work for you then and it’s not going to work for you now, sorry to disappoint.” She knew goading the person was futile, and would probably backlash on her but she didn’t care. The links between her logical mind and her instinctive, irrational mind were still frayed from the sedative.

The person laughed again. “Oh, agent… there is so much more you can give to us than just the codes.”

A hand grabbed her head from behind, fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her head back to stare at the ceiling, shrouded in inky darkness. Kayla could feel breath on her neck, the smell of old coffee and sweet, cloying mint wafting over her face.

“You don’t even know what you hold inside you, do you? The secrets inside your blood… With the right key, they could unlock the secrets of this world and you don’t even realise…” the voice hissed in her ear, making her flinch and recoil, squirming to be free. “But…unfortunately for you, you’re not precious enough to keep alive. Your blood may be rare but there are others like you. We can find another, so for now, I’m afraid your time is up.”

The hand holding her vanished and Kayla’s head dropped forwards. She jerked upright again as the person moved into her eye-line to crouch in front of her, hands reaching out to grip Kayla’s thighs hard enough to bruise. A heavy black metal ring was on the left index finger, a dragon carved into the smooth round surface. Kayla’s eyes flickered up and down the person in front of her. She guessed they were female, but the face was so sharp, so pale and angular it was hard to tell. It looked like it had been carved from a seamless piece of marble, broken only by a thin mouth and two large, impossibly dark eyes that seemed almost liquid, swallowing all light into their obsidian voids. Blonde hair, cut short and shaved on one side was swept neatly into a side parting, not a single strand out of place. The black military gear was the only thing that was familiar to her, it was clearly Draconis.

“Who are you?” Kayla whispered, her throat and mouth like sandpaper her words roughly grated against.

Her question was met with a smile. “Of course you would not remember… My name is Francine Bauer. I am the heart of Draconis,” she replied in a tone so gentle it made Kayla shiver. She leaned in, her mouth barely millimetres from Kayla’s ear. “And I am the one who is going to rip the codes from your brain and leave you broken, and bleeding, and praying for death.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Kayla spat. “Something tells me you’re all talk and no action. If you were really so tough, I would have met you in the field a long time ago. How much strength does it take to sit behind a desk and give orders, really?” Her dark eyes burned into Bauer’s, daring her to make a move.

Bauer straightened, her eyes losing their liquid softness to a hard, cold steel. She turned slightly, as if to leave, but swung around and struck Kayla across the face with a stinging backhand slap, her arm lashing out as powerful as a whip.

The force of the blow made her head snap around, her face blazing with pain. Her lip had split open and Bauer’s ring had ripped a long cut across her right cheek.

“Is that tough enough for you?” Bauer hissed, grabbing Kayla’s chin painfully and forcing her to look up into her face. “You don’t know what that means. You play the game for less than 10 years and you think you know what it’s like?”

Bauer drew back her fist and punched Kayla again, blood peppering her knuckles. “You’re a fool, an insolent child who stumbled into something much bigger than she could handle!” she yelled, her eyes wide and insane as she stuck her prisoner once more, before straightening into her passive, neat military stance and smoothing her hair down.

“ _Принести в машині_ ,” she barked in Ukrainian to the guards behind her, and as the heavy door began to screech open, she turned back to Kayla with wide eyes and an emotionless expression. “You don’t speak Ukrainian, do you?” She walked around the bound body in front of her, long, pale fingers stroking across Kayla’s shoulders as she spoke. “I just told them to bring in the machine. It’s a very lovely machine, I designed it myself, look.”

Kayla breathed heavily through the blood dripping from her nose. It felt like her face was a mess of blood and muscle, something about the sedative was making the pain harder for her brain to push down and ignore. She felt Bauer’s hands clamping either side of her face from behind and forcing her head straight, giving her a perfect view of the machine being wheeled into the cell.

Wires and cables were laid out carefully on a small, metal table, its different shelves holding a variety of components, all stretching from one large screen, and connected to a thin, wire helmet on the other end. Kayla couldn’t pick out all the parts of it, but she knew one thing for sure. She didn’t want it anywhere near her. Her fingers twisted desperately behind her as the table was wheeled closer to her, trying to grab her tiny blade, but her skin was so slick with sweat and weak from the sedative that she couldn’t grip it properly.

“Hold still now, agent,” Bauer said sweetly as she lifted the helmet off the table, wires trailing and falling to the floor as she placed it over Kayla’s head, her neck snapping this way and that in an effort to throw it off. “If you struggle it will only make it worse. Although… I’m not sure if that’s possible.”

A guard blocked out the light momentarily, looming over Kayla as she felt her chin being gripped and mouth forced open, a bitter rubber mouth guard being shoved into her mouth, bashing painfully against her teeth. She gagged as two elastic cords tightened around her head, forcing it further back into her mouth. Eyes watering, she twisted to watch Bauer frantically, her eyes wide and hands and legs still straining vainly against her bindings. She could feel wires being plugged into the helmet and heard a screw being turned before it tightened painfully around her skull, pinching her skin and squeezing her brain.

“Now, this is a rather beautiful piece of equipment,” Bauer told her happily as she leaned over and attached electrodes to Kayla’s neck, chest, down her arms and lifted up her trouser legs to place them on her ankles as she spoke.

“The helmet you’re wearing is adapted from Hydra wipe technology. I doubt you would remember, but wipes are exceedingly painful. A lot of electrical shocks are needed to wipe a person’s memory. There’s a chemical element too, but with this, it’s just the electrical waves. It takes a current of 200 milliAmps to kill a person, 100-200 is enough to cause severe pain. However, our friends at Hydra found a way to use a wave equivalent to 300 milliAmps and not kill the subject. Unfortunately, the details of this is locked in their database, but we were able to replicate it pretty well.”

Bauer finished placing the electrodes and stood over Kayla, her hands held behind her back. “You won’t suffer any physical burns. But it will feel like you have. In fact, it will feel like your insides have been scorched , fused together and ripped to shreds, which is probably much worse. And… as I recall…” She leaned in close again, her face level to Kayla’s wide, terrified eyes and hands braced on her legs. “You have quite a low tolerance for pain when you’re already afraid. Odd for someone in your profession, but still… nobody is perfect.” She stood up straight and turned on her heel, her receding footsteps covered by the low, humming sound of the machine powering up.

“I will be back later to collect the codes from you, that is,” Bauer turned as she reached the doorway, smiling her viper’s grin at Kayla one last time. “If you are still able to talk.”

The door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through Kayla’s feet as she was left alone. She tried to get her blade free again but her fingers were shaking so badly she couldn’t even reach it. The lights around her flickered and faded as the machine’s hum grew louder, leaving her in complete darkness, broken only by the dim glow of the screen behind her which made the shadows warp and flex in grotesque patterns. She couldn’t think, couldn’t form a plan, just sat, bound and primed for the imminent torture and completely powerless to stop it. She just hoped Bucky wasn’t being subjected to this treatment either, but knowing how this things normally worked, he probably was being held just like-

The first wave hit her before her thoughts could progress any further, searing her brain and erasing everything inside it. Kayla ceased to be Kayla, or even human, she was just a burning mass of razor sharp pain stabbing everywhere with white hot knives. Sparks flew from the cables around her head, falling onto her already scorching skin. A scream ripped from her mouth, barely muffled by the mouth guard as it bounced around the room, her body convulsing sickeningly as it tore through her along with the wave. She had never felt pain like this, it felt like everything inside her was on fire, her eyes melting away and internal organs becoming bubbling pools of flesh.

After a miniature eternity, the first wave passed. Kayla’s breath heaved out of her, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw blood. How was she still alive? She had died a thousand times during the wave. A small trickle of blood seeped down from her nose and across her lips, filling her mouth with the metallic, bitter taste. Dimly, she heard the machine begin powering up again, her eyes too sore and burnt to open, even though she knew they were physically fine. On the outside, she was completely unharmed. But on the inside she was on fire, a hollow smoking carcass.

She didn’t bother to brace herself as she heard the machine reach peak noise again. There was no point, it wouldn’t help. As the second wave began, her mind shut down, her screams ripping through her and the wave tearing her body into tiny, smouldering shreds.

 

_518762…_

 

***

“Agent, how are you?” Bauer said in a sing-song, taunting voice as she walked smoothly into the cell, the lights flicking on again as the machine powered down. “Oh… dear…” She frowned as she saw the motionless figure slumped in the chair, her head lolled back and body limp. “Get the defibrillator,” she commanded to the guard at her side.

Kayla’s body rocked as the charge shot through her heart. She couldn’t hear anything… what just happened? Groggily she opened her swollen eyes, her vision blurred and the light blindingly painful. She could hear someone speaking beside her, the words drifting and strange against her ears. She squinted and blinked, her sight clearing.

“Agent, can you hear me?”

Her head jerked to the side, deep pain stabbing her temples at the sudden movement.

“You died, Agent Farin. But it’s alright, you’re back now, how are you feeling?” Bauer’s voice was soothing but it made her flinch and bile rise in her throat.

“I’m not…telling you the… c-codes,” she growled, her throat raw and aching. Dried blood caked a stiff line down her chin and she licked her dry lips as she turned to stare at Bauer.

The other woman looked momentarily angry, a quick blaze that flared behind her eyes before being quelled quickly. She searched Kayla’s eyes for a sign of weakness, but found none. One of her eyes had haemorrhaged under the strain of the torture, a bright red blotch spreading across the white, surrounded by swollen skin. She looked terrible, but she wasn’t breaking. She’d grown stronger, and that wasn’t good.

“I believe you,” Bauer whispered.

Surprise flared in Kayla’s brain and she blinked. “What?”

“I believe you will not tell me the codes. I believe that you would rather die than betray that knowledge, even if you actually were aware of it I still know you would not tell me.” Bauer stood, placing her hands behind her back. “Rest now, Agent. I will be back later.” And with that simple statement, she turned and left the room.

As she rounded the corner, she pulled a phone out of her pocket and quickly pressed a number, holding it to her ear as it connected.

“Bauer, connect to the Baron. Hello sir. She isn’t talking, I believe it may be time to scrap this project. The codes are buried too deep.” Pause. “And the Winter Soldier too? But sir… I thought we were going to use him in- Yes, I understand. Destroy them both. Understood. Would you like me to carry out the eradication plan? Of course. It will be done. I understand, Baron Von Strucker, sir. Bauer out.”

With a sharp beep the call ended and Bauer placed the phone back into her pocket and marched smartly down the corridor, hand reaching down to a walkie-talkie at her belt.

“This is the Commander. It is time for plan End Game. Commence with the evacuation, except for subjects code Winter Soldier and Red Blade. I will stay behind with the strike team and monitor the situation remotely, set up for End Game to be carried out but do not execute. I am enroute to you now. Bauer out.”

 

***

Kayla could hear the klaxon siren screaming behind the huge door, and the sounds of boots thudding against the floor as people ran down the corridor. Her mind was groggy, numb from the torture, her entire body tingling all over and pain shooting down her arms and legs whenever she even twitched. Something was going on… Nobody was coming to get her. Orders were being barked out over the speakers, and she caught a few words. Bauer was wrong when she assumed Kayla didn’t know Ukrainian, she spoke a few words and could understand a little of what was being said. Something about evacuating, and all personnel to be transported away. Weird… Maybe something had gone wrong.

As her mind began pulling itself out of the pain-drenched stupor it was being held in, her fingers worked quickly and methodically to get her blade free. She was so close, she could feel the cold edge against her fingertip, if she could only- There! Flicking it free, she started to saw through her bindings. They were easier to cut through than she thought. Still nobody came to drug her and take her away as she worked her way free. What was going on? Did they just assume she wouldn’t get free and were planning to leave her tied up to starve? It was more probable that the last person to leave would come in and kill her. _Everyone, time to go, last one to leave the base remember to turn off the lights and shoot Kayla in the head._ She wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to find out if she was right.

With a loud snap, the ropes around her wrists broke and fell to the floor as the sirens cut off. Immediately she started working on untying her ankles, flicking the blade back inside her watch, her wrists raw and shiny from the bindings. As her sweaty fingers set about working the knots loose, Kayla jerked her head up and glanced at the door. How was she going to open that? Was it even unlocked? Of course she had no idea if the guards outside were still there, or had left with the others. The corridor was silent now, but the door was so thick she wouldn’t have been able to tell if two people were waiting out there for her. She would just have to take that chance.

The ropes fell away from her ankles and she jumped up, her muscles screaming in protest but quickly being stifled by the adrenaline coursing through her body. Wiping away the blood on her face, the long cut on her cheek stinging painfully as her fingers brushed across it, Kayla made her way over to the door. She ran her hands along it, staring at the long bolts on its surface. It didn’t look like it was locked, and there was only one way to be sure. Grabbing the edge and leaning back, Kayla put all of her weight behind herself as she dragged the door open, the loud screech from the rusting hinges making her skin crawl. Opening it barely enough to squeeze out of, she peered down the corridor immediately in front of her from the safety of the cell. It looked empty, but she couldn’t see the other side. Taking a deep breath and clenching her fists, she squirmed through the narrow gap and burst into the corridor, whirling around to meet any unseen attackers.

It was empty. There was nobody in the long, dark corridor but her, the silence pressing against her ears and making her uneasy. This was too easy… it felt like someone was playing with her. Lulling her into a false sense of security just to lead her straight into a trap. She took a couple of steps down the corridor to her right, opposite to the way everyone had been running, her bare feet slapping against the damp floor. Fluorescent lights set into the dark concrete walls reflected against the wetness, the buzzing setting her teeth on edge as she walked further down. She could barely see where the corridor ended, the harsh lighting against her sore eyes making it difficult to see things properly.

As she walked further down the corridor, Kayla started to make a little more sense of her surroundings. This definitely wasn’t a factory or warehouse. Her best guess was a power plant or substation, but that’s as far as her assumptions went. Wait a minute… Abandoned power plant… in Ukraine…

“Fuck, I’m in Chernobyl,” she whispered, stopping in the middle of the corridor as the realisation hit her. No wonder the door was so thick, they needed it to protect against the radiation. “Oh this can only end well…” It would probably take a good few weeks stuck here before radiation poisoning set in, she would just have to find a way out before then.  But first, she had to find Bucky. God only knew what they were doing to him, but an organisation like Draconis finally getting their hands on Hydra’s favourite toy she knew it wouldn’t be good. And if they were willing to do that to her, she couldn’t bear to think of what they would do to him.

The numbers that had whispered around her brain earlier wound themselves into her thoughts as she opened a smaller door and checked the room beyond. A supply closet. What were they? Parts of the elusive code, brought up through the cracks the machine had broken in her mind? It was true that sometimes the shock of a lot of pain could cause people to remember things they never thought possible, but that couldn’t be the whole code, surely. It had to be longer than 6 digits, if she could only remember…

Kayla jogged along the corridor a little ways, and opened another door. Nothing still. She closed it and caught sight of her reflection in the polished glass window and jumped a little at the sight of herself. Her face was a mess, the skin around the long, deep cut from Bauer’s ring swollen and yellowing, one eye shot through with red and the other beginning to purple, a bruise from one of Bauer’s hits she guessed. The cut on her lip had leaked blood down her chin, drying along with the drips from her nose and creating a reddish brown mess. She frowned and wiped it off, turning away and moving to the next door. She looked horrific, but that wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was finding Bucky and getting the hell out of there.

Another room that was empty. This was going to take her a while. Kayla sighed and leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of her nose and dropping her head forwards out of exhaustion. “Bucky, where are you?” she growled through gritted teeth. Leaning her head back she looked down the corridor the way she had come.

There was someone standing there.

She jerked upright, raising her hands in front of her in defence, but the person didn’t move. She couldn’t tell who it was, they were just a silhouette, face hidden in the darkness. They were standing about 20 feet away, and Kayla’s skin rose up in tiny goosebumps as she realised they must have been following her the whole time.

“Who are you?” she called.

The person didn’t reply.

Kayla swallowed and started to edge down the corridor, fists still raised ready to attack. If they had wanted to kill her they would have done it by now, maybe it was another prisoner. Maybe they knew where Bucky was being held. Reasons and possibilities flashing around her mind as she neared the person.

“What do you want?” she asked again, even though she knew they wouldn’t answer her. She was barely 10 feet away now. Her eyes narrowed as the person’s features began to grow clearer. They were dressed in black military garb, what looked like a thick leather, banded jacket replacing the normal Draconis one, a belt slung across the hips and a knife strapped to the right thigh, a gun holster on the other. The way they were standing was so familiar though… Wait... She squinted more as she closed in, trying to distinguish the face amongst the shadows.

“Bucky?” The name dropped from her lips as the realisation set in. “Bucky, is that you?” Relief flooded her tone as she drew closer and saw him properly. Her fists and all the tension in her body dropped as she recognised him.

“What are you doing? Are you ok?” Running her hands through her hair she smiled. “God… I was so worried… Come on, let’s go.”

He didn’t move, just watched her with distant, cold eyes.

The smile left her face and she frowned. Something was wrong… “Barnes, come on. What’s the matter?” She reached out to touch his upper arm lightly. “Let’s go, we don’t have much-“

Her words cut off in a choked gasp as a metal hand grabbed her throat, squeezing it shut. Struggling against the hold, she caught sight of Bucky’s eyes as he turned to face her. They were completely blank, devoid of anything but cruel methodical anger and rage. Her fingers scrabbled at his hand, unable to grip or loosen his fingers, as she felt herself being lifted up off the ground, her feet dangling helplessly.

_Come on Kayla, think! Move! You’ve had training so use it, goddammit!_ Screwing up her face in effort, Kayla lifted her feet and kicked wildly at Bucky, her bare feet colliding with anything they could, her hands reaching out to claw and push at his face. She felt his fingers loosen and twisted wildly, straining against his hold until she finally slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. Scrambling upright, she whirled around to face him, their eyes meeting for a miniscule second before he grabbed the long, black knife strapped to his thigh and sliced through the air towards her face.

She threw herself backwards a millisecond too late, feeling the blade cut a thin, shallow line across her cheek and nose. Jerking upright again, she ducked under his arm and ran back down the corridor, past the rooms she’d already searched and towards the distant door at the end. She couldn’t fight him, she was weak and didn’t have any weapons. He was… Well he wasn’t Bucky anymore. He was the Winter Soldier, and that meant she should run like hell.

The end of the corridor drew closer, Kayla had no idea if Bucky-no, the Winter Soldier was running behind her or simply walking, waiting for her to run out of energy. She didn’t feel like checking. Beyond the archway that marked the hallway’s end, she could see a grated metal walkway with several stairways leading off it, going up on the left and down on the right. Which way should she go? She had no idea where she was, no idea what she should do, she was starting to panic.

Kayla was barely 6 feet away from the door when a loud siren broke through her thoughts, making her stumble in shock slightly before catching her balance just in time to see a large, thick metal door slam down across the archway. Her momentum carrying her, she slammed into it, the force shooting through her body and making her cry out. Hitting the door with both hands, her mind turned blind with panic. What the hell was going on?

Hearing a footfall behind her, she whirled around and saw the Winter Soldier standing a few feet away, watching her. It was like she was being played with, no, it was more sinister than that. She was being hunted. Why bother to kill her quickly when they could test out their new repurposed toy? Her fingers wound around the cold bars as she stared at her predator, swallowing down the bile that rose in fear at the back of her throat and feeling it burn past the bruises left by his fingers.

There had to be a way out. Think, Kayla, think. Her eyes darted around her surroundings. She could take her chances and try and run the other way again, but she suspected the same thing would happen the other end of the corridor. A vent set into the bottom of the wall to her left caught her eye, and she glanced back at the Winter Soldier to see him, arm raised and eyes cold, ready to throw his knife straight at her head.

She flung herself towards the vent, the knife thudding into the door a few inches from her shoulder. Reaching up, she grabbed it before kicking down the thin grate of the vent, leaping into it and hearing the Winter Soldier’s body slamming into the barrier as he tried to catch her.

The floor fell away from her as she fell into the sheer drop of the vent, her body barely fitting into it. The wind whipped her hair up as gravity took her and her stomach threatened to fly out of her ears. Desperately, she struck out with the knife, sparks raining down around her and a metallic screech tearing her brain apart as it cut through the vent’s side, before finally catching against something harder inside the wall and jerking her body to a stop.

Kayla grimaced in pain, it felt like her arm had been ripped out of its socket, but at least that meant she was still alive. She glanced up and down, the low roaring of the wind inside the vent pressing against her ears. Nobody was climbing down the vent after her, so she guessed the Winter Soldier couldn’t fit. First piece of luck she’d had all day. If you called being stuck inside a vent with a psychotic killer after you lucky. At least she had a weapon now.

She needed a way out now, she couldn’t dangle there forever. So, how to escape from the vent? Tilting her head up until it pressed against the cold metal wall, she squinted at what looked like a hole in the vent’s side about 2 feet above her. She could reach that, she decided, her mouth setting into a grim, determined line as she squirmed her other arm up to grip the edge of the hole. Her fingers locked into place, she lifted herself up as carefully as she could and clambered into the other vent. Thank goodness it was horizontal, she thought as she slid the knife into the pocket of her jeans.

Kayla sat there for a moment, letting her body rest. She had a few options, she could go down and see if there was a way out through the basement, go up to higher ground and get her bearings, or try and find a computer terminal and see what she could get from there.

All of those options sounded equally impossible to her right now, but she decided on number 3. Except there was the Winter Soldier, and whatever remained of Bauer’s team, and possibly Bauer herself, between Kayla and the computer. And she didn’t know where a computer might be. She sighed angrily and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the vent wall. She had to at least try to get through to Bucky, she couldn’t just leave him behind. She’d made a vow a long time ago never to abandon her team, no matter how desperate and hopeless the situation, and she couldn’t break it now. She’d made a promise to protect him, and she would.

Crawling along the vent, her plan ran like clockwork around her head. Computer, get Bucky, get out. Computer, get Bucky, get out. Except the more she thought about it, the more it felt like wishful thinking. Scowling, she pushed those doubts down. Even if she didn’t get out alive, Bucky would, he had to. She was nothing, she was expendable, he wasn’t.

Dirty yellow light filtered through a grate in front of her. Peering through it, Kayla saw nothing. But that didn’t mean the Winter Soldier wasn’t there, and there was only one way to find out. Gingerly lifting the grate, she poked her head out to scan her surroundings. It looked like she’d reached the power plant’s core area, grated walkways and narrow stairs crossing from each one stretched out in front of her, and through the gaps in the one directly in front of her she could see a cavernous pit far below her. She couldn’t even see what was down there, it just looked like a lot of black stacks and concrete. But there was no sign of anyone around, so she squirmed out of the vent and stood upright on the walkway.

The distant sound of pulsing fans roared beneath her as she walked towards the nearest stairway, the grated floor pressing painfully against her feet. This place was huge, Kayla noted as she tilted her head up, her fingers brushing on the rusting railing beside her. She could barely see the ceiling, just more walkways high above her. Except they looked more like thin beams than walkways… It was hard to tell from this distance.

As she moved away, a piece of dust wafted into her face and she flinched to one side instinctively, and in that split second a gunshot cracked through the air, a bullet whizzing past her head.

Whirling around, Kayla saw the Winter Soldier once again behind her. Dammit… he’d caught up with her again. Sprinting to the nearest walkway, Kayla ducked as she heard the gun fire again, the bullet pinging off the railing as she tore up the stairs, instinctively seeking higher ground. Reaching the higher walkway, she ran towards the ladder at the end and swung herself up it, hands slick with sweat fumbling to grip the rungs. The Winter Soldier wasn’t far behind her, his boots pounding against the metal as he chased her, hand reaching out to grab her foot and missing by millimetres as she clambered up the ladder, rolling onto the next walkway. Desperately she looked around for another ladder, but there wasn’t one. She was on the highest level.

Hearing the Soldier climbing up the ladder behind her, she sprinted along the walkway, vertigo making her head spin as she slammed into the railing the other end. There had to be another way. Her eyes darted around, and saw a tiny window in the wall high above her. She could fit through that! But there was no other way to get to it other than a thin beam, rungs criss-crossing between the two poles, suspended in the air by chains. Swallowing the bitter fear rising in her stomach, Kayla clambered up onto the railing and flung herself through the air towards the beam.

Kayla felt the ground rush away from her, adrenaline shooting through her body as the wind rushed up around her, just before her hands slammed into one of the rungs and gripped as tight as they could. Muscles screaming, she heaved herself up and clung to the chain nearest to her, chest heaving and skin slick with sweat. Her head whipped around and saw the Winter Soldier standing at the edge of the walkway, gun raised. She flinched, but heard gunshot, no bullet fly past her, just an empty click.

A manic smile lifted her face unconsciously as she saw the Soldier shake the gun, then throw it over the side of the walkway. Turning, she tested the stability of the walkway. Gingerly, she let go of the chain, smile dropping from her face as quickly as it had come. She took a few steps, heart threatening to leap right out of her chest, arms stretched wide for balance and mind whirling with fear. Except she was doing it, she was closing in on the door, she was almost there, she could feel the light on her face, she was-

A stinging pain ripped through her leg and she screamed, as she lost her balance, arms windmilling, reaching out to grasp something, anything to catch herself, but flying through empty space. Her feet slid off the rungs, her body tipping to one side in horrific slow motion, before the beam fell away and she plummeted through the air.


End file.
